


Days Gone By

by xxMad_Donaxx



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Sex, Angst, Eventual Fluff, F/M, Hand Jobs, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Post Game, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-21
Updated: 2014-11-13
Packaged: 2018-02-14 02:26:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 26
Words: 39,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2174565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxMad_Donaxx/pseuds/xxMad_Donaxx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Twenty-four years after the Kirkwall Chantry was destroyed the sixteen year old son of reigning Prince Sebastian Vael of Starkhaven dreams of the mage who destroyed it.</p><p>For this Kmeme prompt:</p><p>http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/11381.html?thread=45010805#t45010805</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Tags will likely evolve. The rating and warnings may change. I'm leaning towards some smut eventually but I've been wrong before. Enjoy! =)

Grant Vael bolted upright in bed. Weak moonlight filtered through the curtains drawn over the window and he could just make out the wardrobe on the other side of the room. Panting with panic he pushed the blankets off and weaved unsteadily towards the balcony doorway. As large as his room was it was still stifling after one of these nightmares. He fumbled the door open and took the few steps towards the railing.

Taking deep breaths of the cool night air he gripped the rail and tried to calm himself. Grant hated this particular dream. He’d been dreaming off and on about a blonde mage that looked quite a lot like him for months now. Some of the dreams were in places he knew but more of them seemed to happen somewhere in the wilderness of Thedas. Not all of the dreams were night terrors but this one was the worst of them.

In his dreams he was running through a field towards the safety of a dense forest. He never reached the trees. There’s sharp pain in his chest and he stumbles. Unable to reach the arrow, he doesn’t have any doubt that’s what caused the pain; he can’t heal himself enough to go on. On his hands and knees he keeps crawling for the forest but it’s too far away. A voice calls out before he collapses and he struggles to breathe lying in the field. He feels the arrow yanked out but he’s too weak to cry out. The best he can manage is a wince as his shoulder is grabbed and he’s roughly turned over.

He always wakes before he can see the face of this mage’s murderer. What bothers him the most about this dream is the voice that calls out and the only word that’s understandable, Anders. The voice is very familiar but Grant can’t place it. It’s too hard to think through the panic of nearly dying. The dream doesn’t ever fade completely but he doesn’t remember the voice exactly after he’s calm.

Then there’s the thought that he might be dreaming of _the_ Anders and not just some random thing his sleeping mind conjured up. Grant knew the history, how he’d ignited a war and the horrifying thing he’d done to start that war. That he might be dreaming of that Anders and how closely he resembled the mage was very frightening. Grant hadn’t told anyone of these dreams. He was having them more often though, especially this one. As he looked out over the castle courtyard and watched the guards walking back and forth on the battlements he knew he’d have to talk to someone about them. This was the third time he’d had this particular nightmare in two weeks. Grant was half afraid he’d somehow attracted the attention of a demon.

None of his family knew that he was a mage. He knew that his father, the Prince of Starkhaven, would send him elsewhere if he knew. His mother would have little say in the matter. Grant’s elder brother and sister were too involved with Starkhaven politics to care much about him. Being the third child had spared him that at least.

For four years Grant had technically been an apostate. At twelve he’d spent months in a frightened quandary. Mages weren’t sent to circles anymore but living in a fortress in the middle of nowhere held no appeal. Not all mages had been gathered at one of the three Keep’s, one in Ferelden, one in the Anderfels and one in Antiva. Grant had been set to run away to see if he could find one of these apostates so he could learn to at least control the magic. He hadn’t even made it past the city gates before his current teacher had found him.

Graham Harrison was the only person he dared trust. His mentor’s past was a mystery as was his reasons for revealing his apostate status to the youngest Vael. Grant was thankful whatever the man’s reasoning was. He didn’t have to leave his home to learn about his dangerous gift.

Grant straightened and ran a hand through his short hair. He watched the guards make another circuit before turning back to the door. Sebastian had approved his request that Graham teach him about healing. For the last four years he’d spent four hours three days a week learning much more than just bandaging, herbology, and various other related things. Tomorrow he would find some excuse to go down into the city and pay Graham an unscheduled visit.

He slowly made his way back to his bed and crawled under the covers. Grant fell asleep thinking about the voice he could almost recognize. The rest of his night was uninterrupted. He made sure that he wasn’t late for breakfast because that would mean having to sneak out. His mother and father already sat at opposite ends of the table and his brother Douglas was already sitting at their father’s right.

Elle followed him into the dining room. Grant sat nearest his mother and his sister a little further down the long table on the opposite side. He smiled at the elf that served them and tucked in quietly. Since there was no good time to interrupt a discussion of Starkhaven nobility Grant turned to his mother.

“May I go to the market today Mother?” Grant asked after he was almost finished.

“What of your studies?” she said quietly.

“I just have Sister Matilda this morning,” he said. “Brother Richard is with his ailing mother so I have the afternoon free.”

“Very well,” Anne Vael said with a small indulgent smile. “Just make sure to behave properly.”

“I will,” Grant said returning her small smile.

Not for the first time Grant was glad he was her favorite. Whether it was because he was the youngest or that he was the only child to have inherited her looks, didn’t matter. Anne had intervened on his behalf with Sebastian several times. Grant wasn’t sure why but knew that Sebastian was stricter with him than with either of his siblings.

Paying attention to Sister Matilda was difficult throughout the morning. She was his history tutor. The subject was boring enough most days but he was eager to talk to Graham and found it difficult to even act interested. Both of his siblings were absent at lunch and he ate quickly. Still chewing his last bite he pushed his plate away and stood.

“Be back before supper Grant,” Anne said calmly.

“Okay,” he replied after he’d swallowed.

Grant started for the door but his father’s stern voice stopped him. “Where are you off to?”

“The market,” Grant said turning slightly.

Sebastian was frowning as he’d expected. He glanced at Anne and back to Grant. “Behave yourself,” he said sternly.

“I will,” Grant replied.

He waved at the door and Grant hurried out before he could change his mind or add stipulations. The soldiers at the castle gate noted his exit but didn’t impede him. Grant hurried through the city, nodding politely to those that acknowledged him.

As son of the Prince, good behavior among the people was of paramount importance. Why this had been drilled into him since he was very young was a complete mystery to Grant. Sebastian had demanded this of all three of his children of course but Grant had heard it twice as much as his siblings, usually with a stern frown. He had more memories of that frown than he did anything else. Grant pushed his father from the front of his mind and focused on getting to Graham’s cottage.

The Minanter gurgled peacefully not far away when he reached the very edge of the city. Grant knocked on the door of his mentor’s humble dwelling. It was made of stone but unlike most of the city it wasn’t granite or marble. The roof was tiled, it was only one story, and there were only two rooms. The furnishings inside were as simple as the outside. Grant thought the house suited Graham perfectly.

Grant knocked on the door and shifted impatiently from foot to foot as he waited. He knocked again hoping that Graham wasn’t out. Moments later he sighed in relief as the door opened. Graham’s frown turned to a small smirk as he turned and waved him in. His long black hair threaded liberally with gray streaks was pulled back in a loose tail as usual. He was clean shaven, possibly because of the scar that ran along the left side of his jawline. His attire was simple peasant fare but it didn’t detract from the noble aura that surrounded him.

“Can I expect soldiers banging on my door in an hour or so?” Graham asked his voice thick with amusement.

“I do have permission to be out,” Grant said closing the door behind him. “Just…not to be here.”

Graham shook his head a little and pulled out a chair at his wooden table. He gestured to the seat across from him and his amused smile turned to a serious line. “What’s on your mind Grant?” he asked.

Grant sat and took a deep breath. He talked of the dreams for almost half an hour, from the boring ones of working tirelessly in a clinic somewhere to the frightening ones. Graham listened patiently, eventually leaning back with his left arm across his chest and the right rubbing the gnarled scar. From past experience Grant knew his mentor was thinking deeply.

“You experience these dreams from this mystery mage’s point of view?” Graham asked slowly.

“Yes,” Grant replied. “I’ve seen his reflection in mirrors, pools of water, the sea, things like that. It’s actually really creepy how much he looks like me.”

“Maybe you resemble him,” said Graham.

“That doesn’t exactly make me feel better,” Grant said frowning.

“Oh don’t worry,” Graham said smiling as he stood. “I don’t think they’re the result of demons or spirits. Come with me. I may have something that might help.”

He followed Graham into his bedroom. This room was as simple and sparsely furnished as the rest of the house. There was one bed, one wardrobe and a chest that sat at the foot of the bed. Graham knelt and opened the chest. The top layer appeared to be some form of armor with bits of leather and fur just visible before he shoved it to one side. There were several thin books at the bottom and Graham flipped through several before choosing three.

Graham frowned at another knock on the door and handed the books to him as he strode to the front door. Grant waited in the bedroom doorway, clearly visible but able to make a quick escape through the window to his left if necessary. The knock sounded again before Graham opened the door.

The man standing on the other side was clearly a warrior even though he wore no armor. Grant could see a great sword poking up over one shoulder. His short hair was black and graying at the temples, he had blue eyes and perpetual worry lines creased into his forehead. A sunny smile broke out on Graham’s face the instant he opened the door.

“Carver!” he exclaimed happily. Graham pulled him into a hug and he grimaced briefly before smiling and returning it. “Maker’s Breath it’s been ages!”

“I was in the area and I thought…” Carver began. He trailed off when he spied Grant standing in the bedroom doorway. “Bloody flames…who…”

“Oh,” Graham said turning slightly. “Let me introduce you to my latest student.” He pulled Carver into the room and closed the front door. “This is Grant _Vael._ ”

“Vael?” Carver said sharply tearing his gaze away from him.

“Vael,” Graham said smugly. He turned slightly and gestured at Carver. “Grant this is Carver Hawke, a very good friend of mine.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Grant said politely. “Graham, I really should be going. Father…”

“Yes,” he said nodding. “Read through those books. Maybe it’ll help you figure out those dreams. I’ll see you tomorrow at the clinic.”

Grant nodded and made for the front door when Graham pulled Carver away from it. He could feel the warrior’s gaze following him and held in a sigh when the door was shut behind him. After only a moment of thought Grant moved around the cottage to the opened kitchen window. He wasn’t normally a nosy person but Carver’s reaction to him was intriguing. Grant stood at the edge and listened intently.

“…noticed the resemblance,” Graham said irritably. “Sebastian’s noticed it too. He keeps that boy on an extremely short leash. I had to go through his mother to even be allowed to teach him. Sebastian was set on giving him to the Chantry.”

“Is he a mage?” Carver said very softly.

“Yes,” Graham replied just as softly. “It’s a wonder he’s managed to keep it from his parents for so long.”

“You’re walking on thin ice brother,” Carver said sternly. “Just being here is dangerous never mind teaching that boy.”

“What better place to hide than directly under his nose?” Graham said smugly. “Besides, who would have guessed at him having a mage child who just happens to look like Anders who is also adept at creation magic? He’ll make an excellent healer.”

Grant hurried away before he could hear Carver’s reply, reeling in shock.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Random Information, Graham is 56 and Carver is 51.

History lessons had taught Grant that Garrett Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall, had saved many of the mages after Anders had destroyed the Chantry. It was well known that he’d supported the mages in the war that followed. Garrett Hawke had disappeared during the war however. His whereabouts had remained unknown since.

The warrior had been introduced as Carver Hawke and had called Graham brother. This was far from irrefutable evidence but Grant thought he’d just figured out part of his mentor’s shadowy past. The thought that he was being taught by the Champion of Kirkwall was both frightening and exciting. His reasoning for teaching was still a complete mystery.

He thought of Graham’s smug reply to Carver’s admonishment. Who was he hiding from and why? There were important people in Starkhaven but none that might have an interest in Garrett Hawke, none but his father at any rate. Sebastian didn’t often speak of his time in Kirkwall or the five years after his departure. Grant had heard enough stories from his father to know that he’d known the Champion of Kirkwall and their friendship had been shattered somehow.

If Graham truly was Garrett Hawke he was risking much to teach him. Could it be his resemblance to Anders? Grant clutched the three thin books tightly as he headed home. He wanted to know more than ever what these dreams were and if the mage truly was the monster that had destroyed Kirkwall’s Chantry.

Grant arrived well before supper. He sought out his mother to let her know he was home and went straight to his room. There he sat on the balcony with the three books. All three were filled with neat script and he chose one at random. It was clear very quickly that he was reading someone’s journal.

The dates that preceded each entry so far indicated this was written nearly thirty years ago. Some entries were barely a paragraph and others took up two pages. There were names he didn’t recognize and references to places that Grant knew only from textbooks. In the hour and a half he read two names he recognized came up frequently, Anders and Carver. The image the author painted of the former did not match what he’d been taught.

He was distracted through dinner and ate quickly. When he was finished Grant excused himself and went back to his room. When the sunlight faded he moved inside and sat at his desk reading by candle light. Grant had read through most of the book by the time he couldn’t keep his eyes open. He shuffled to bed and slept.

When he woke it was to a dream of the clinic that didn’t fade as quickly as usual. Grant had dreamt of the mage healing person after person. He remembered clearly the drive to save everyone he possibly could, working until he was exhausted and pushing on anyway. There were similarities between this dream the last entry he’d read. The author of the journal had gone to Anders’ clinic, not for healing but instead to help, and had found Anders utterly exhausted having spent all night healing victims of a tunnel collapse.

Neither his dreams nor the journal entries matched what he’d been taught about Anders. The mage had been described as crazy, obsessed, and ruthless. He’d destroyed the Chantry to start a war and thought nothing of his victims. If the journal’s author is to be believed, nearly everything he’d learned about Anders was very wrong.

Since he was eager to speak with Graham about what he’d read and why he’d been given the journal in the first place, the morning seemed endless. His thoughts were constantly drawn to the journal and the contradictory information it contained. When he finally made it to Graham’s clinic that afternoon he was nearly bursting with curiosity. Graham was at the back of the long building grinding elfroot. Grant was glad the building was nearly empty as he hurried back. Carver lounged casually at the desk nearby.

“Good afternoon Grant,” Graham said cheerfully as he approached.

“Graham,” Grant said politely. He turned to Carver and nodded. “Serah Hawke.”

Carver grunted and Graham snickered quietly. “Just Carver,” he said with a grimace.

Grant smiled at him and received a small frown. He looked over at Graham when his shoulder was bumped. Graham offered him the pestle and Grant took it gratefully.

“Don’t mind him,” Graham said. “He’s always a little grumpy.”

There was a snort from behind them and he glanced back to see Carver had sat up straight and now watched them. He turned back to the mortar. “Graham,” he said quietly. “Those journals you gave me yesterday…are they yours?”

“They are,” he replied in a normal tone. “You don’t need to worry about what you say in front of Carver, he knows what we are.”

“I won’t tell anyone either,” Carver said seriously.

He turned once more and smiled gratefully. This time he received a small smile. Grant continued grinding the elfroot and after a moment of thought said casually, “So you actually knew him? Anders I mean.”

“We did know Anders,” Graham said calmly.

“Don’t believe half the rot you hear about him,” Carver said irritably. “He was a pain in the arse not a heartless killer.”

Grant turned once again to see Carver. He was frowning deeply and his brows were pulled down in aggravation.

“What about the Chantry?” Grant asked.

“He was a desperate man who did a terrible thing,” Graham said still calm. Grant turned to him and was a little surprised to see sadness in his expression. “He was a very compassionate man.”

“Sebastian was there too,” Carver said cautiously. “What does he have to say about it?”

“Father doesn’t speak of it very often,” Grant said.

Carver snorted again and stood. Grant watched him shake his head and move around the desk. He shouldered his great sword and headed for the front doors. “I’m going to wander. See you later…Graham.”

Grant watched him all the way to the door, noticing how fit he was for an old man. He also noticed the hesitation before he said his mentor’s name. Graham chuckled beside him when the door closed behind Carver and nudged his shoulder again.

“As nice as it is to _finally_ see that expression,” Graham said with an amused smile. “He’s old enough to be your father.”

“What expression?” Grant asked in innocent confusion.

“That admiring expression,” he replied. “I’ve never seen you look even halfway interested in anyone who comes in here.”

“Oh,” Grant said in a small voice. He focused on the mortar and pestle hoping Graham wouldn’t see his flushed cheeks. “It’s not that I’m not…interested. If Father found out I’d done…that…well…”

“Maker’s Breath,” said Graham disgustedly. “When I was your age I flirted shamelessly with most of the neighbor’s daughters.”

“Why do you think I’m not allowed out of the castle?” Grant muttered. “I honestly think he’s going to marry me off to some foreign noble for more trade rights or some other political rubbish.”

“You could always find someone and run away,” Graham said sympathetically. “That’s what my mother did.”

“Was she nobility?”

“She was. That’s why we ended up in Kirkwall after the Blight in Ferelden. We had family there.”

Graham smiled and squeezed his shoulder before moving away to prepare the cook pot for the elfroot. Grant continued to grind and thought of his dreams. The possibility that he was actually dreaming of Anders’ life was still frightening. The discrepancies between what he’d been taught and two people who’d actually known him were very disturbing.

He took the mortar over to Graham and asked quietly, “Do you think that I’m dreaming of his life?”

“I do,” said Graham smiling.

“Why did you give me your journals?” he said.

“Because you’re afraid of him,” Graham said. “What you’ve learned of Kirkwall and the beginning of the Mage-Templar war is likely very biased. Your tutors are all Brothers and Sisters of the Chantry. They focus on that one desperate act and ignore the good works he did for the Fereldan refugees for seven years. And anyone else who walked through his doors. My journals are admittedly biased the other direction but you’re an intelligent lad capable of forming your own opinion.”

“But why am I dreaming of him?” said Grant desperately looking up at the taller man next to him. “And why do I look so much like him?”

“I have my suspicions,” said Graham evasively. “I really don’t think it’s anything to worry about though.”

Grant nodded and tried to hide his disappointment. He knew little more about his strange dreams than he did the previous day. As long as he wasn’t about to turn into an abomination however, he could be patient. Grant decided that he would continue to read the journals and hopefully learn more about the man he looked so much like. 


	3. Chapter 3

Carver had spent most of the afternoon wandering through Starkhaven remembering. Seeing Grant Vael had brought feelings to the surface he’d thought long buried. Anders had been an aggravating man but he’d always had a soft spot for the often infuriating healer. If he were completely honest with himself, he’d spent years wishing he knew how to get Anders’ attention without starting an argument. He had to be content with watching from a distance and doing what he could to keep the other Templars away from him.

Even after that last brutal night in the Gallows Carver didn’t regret protecting him. Having lived with three mages he was well aware of their plight. In the Gallows he’d learned how badly corrupted the Templar order had become. Carver didn’t agree with his actions but knew change was needed. After they had fled Kirkwall the diverse group Garrett had gathered slowly fell apart. He did regret not going with Anders when he and Garrett had split.

They had agreed it would be harder for Sebastian to track both of them. When he’d been forced away from his brother he’d wandered the Free Marches, Nevarra and Orlais, helping when he could and looking for either one of them. Almost a year later he’d finally found Anders but it was too late to help him. His body had been a gruesome sight, left to the carrion eaters and the elements for Maker knew how long. Carver had burned what was left and continued to wander Thedas, helping apostates he found along the way.

For twenty three years he’d been wandering, directing mages he came across to one of the three strongholds. Carver had come across a few of the people Garrett had called friends and had finally caught up with Garrett nearly ten years ago when he’d settled in Starkhaven. He still thought his brother was crazy for living in the city where the ruler had sworn to see him dead. Secretly teaching Sebastian’s apostate son seemed more than a little foolhardy. Garrett had never been one to see sense however.

As dangerous as it was, Carver understood what had drawn him to the boy in the first place. A little more height, a slightly longer nose, a slightly narrower chin and Grant would have been an exact match for Anders. According to his brother the similarities didn’t end with his looks either. Their magical strengths were similar. Grant had shown distaste for enclosed spaces and he’d shown some of the compassion he knew Anders had in abundance.

Carver sighed and shook his head. He turned in the direction of Garrett’s home and tried to put Grant Vael and Anders out of his mind. When he arrived he entertained himself by going through his brother’s small library. He found an old copy of one of Varric’s books and sat at the table flipping through it. Carver looked up briefly when Garrett entered and looked back down at the book.

“Nosy dwarf always knew us best didn’t he,” Carver said flipping the book shut.

“Much to our usual dismay,” Garrett said fondly. “I still miss him sometimes.” His smile turned to a smirk as he shut the door and sat opposite him at the table. “Guess who’s interested in older men.”

“Do I have to?” said Carver with a small scowl.

“Grant watched you walk all the way out of the clinic today,” said Garrett his smirk widening. “I wouldn’t call it leering, he’s entirely too polite for that, but it was pretty close.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Carver asked suspiciously.

“Because it’s another similarity,” Garrett replied. “Anders’ first love was a much older man. Grant hasn’t really shown that sort of interest in anyone before today.”

“I’m flattered,” said Carver flatly. “And?”

“If he is I think you should go for it,” said Garrett leaning back in his chair.

“You’re joking right?” Carver said in astonishment.

“No, I’m not joking,” he replied crossing his arms over his chest. “I told you Sebastian has him on a short leash. Grant isn’t being allowed to find his own path. His mother can only do so much.”

“And if he gets caught with someone twice his age how will that possibly help?” Carver said incredulously.

“Don’t get caught,” said Garrett with a shrug. “He could use some confidence. Besides, you could be the man he compares everyone else to.”

“That’s…I can’t believe this,” he sputtered. “You didn’t encourage him did you?”

“Not yet,” said Garrett grinning. “I plan to however. I don’t think I’ll need to encourage him much.”

“Garrett,” Carver moaned.

“Just think about it Carver,” Garrett said. “I think Grant has Anders’ soul. There are too many similarities. Add the dreams he told me about yesterday…you don’t need more regrets.”

Carver frowned. He’d never told anyone about his feelings for Anders. It wasn’t entirely surprising that Garrett knew however. What he found difficult to believe was Anders may have been reborn as Sebastian’s son. Garrett knew the boy much better than he did and he already found their similarities surprising.

“The Maker sure has an odd sense of humor,” Carver sighed. “I’ll think about it.”

Garrett smiled as he stood. “What do you want for supper?”

“Whatever,” he said. “I’ll get the tea on.”

He stood and tried to push the whole conversation away but all throughout that night Grant’s grateful little smile kept invading his thoughts.

*

That night at dinner Grant was only half listening to conversation around him. He was eager to read more in the journals. The conversation eclipsed his eagerness however. Elle was only a little over a year older than he was. Not only was their father less demanding of her she always seemed to get what she wanted. An envoy was being sent to Tantervale for some reason and Elle apparently wanted to go very badly.

Grant listened to her reason and bargain with no success. He stopped eating altogether when the whining began. When Sebastian relented and agreed to let her go, Grant could feel his magic bubbling up along with his temper. He dropped his fork and pushed away from the table. Walking quickly he ignored the worried calls of his mother and the almost angry one’s of his father. Taking a circuitous route back to his room he performed a couple of calming tricks Graham had taught him.

His magic was under control by the time he made it to his room but his temper hadn’t calmed much. He paced the room for no more than a few minutes when both of his parents came through the door. Grant saw his mother’s worried expression and knew he was in trouble. Sebastian had that same stern frown that he was growing to hate.

“Grant,” Sebastian began.

“It’s not fair,” he interrupted heatedly. “I can’t leave the bloody castle and Elle gets to leave the whole blighted city!”

“The city is full of temptations that you do not know how to deal with,” Sebastian said firmly.

“How can I learn locked up in here all the time?” said Grant accusatorily. “You let both of them wander out whenever they liked at fifteen.”

“The people must know and trust them,” said Sebastian taking a few steps closer.

“You’re just ashamed of me,” Grant hissed glaring at his father. “You hide me away because I look like Anders.”

Sebastian’s eyes widened slightly then his stern frown became an angry one. “Yes. You do look like him. He disappeared years ago and no one knows where he might be. You could easily be mistaken for him and taken away. I keep you here to protect you.”

“I don’t believe you.” Grant clenched his hands into fists and tucked them in his armpits hoping he could keep control of his magic while he was so furious. “You never smile at me like you do Douglas and Elle. It’s always a frown. More rules, more expectations. You’re never happy with me. You never ask how my training is coming along.”

“Grant, please calm down,” Anne pleaded.

“I’m sorry Mother,” said Grant glaring at Sebastian. “He hates me and we both know it.”

His shocked expression only fanned Grant’s fury. He shoved past both of them and broke into a run, heading for one of the many servants entrances. Footsteps and Anne’s concerned calls followed him for a while but he quickly outdistanced her. Surprised elves who weren’t quick enough were knocked over in his haste to be away. Grant ignored them and rushed past. Out in the garden he slowed somewhat and headed for its borders.

The sun sat on the horizon by the time he cleared the hedge border. Grant shoved his hands into his pockets and wandered out into the city wondering where he should go. Sebastian would have the soldiers looking for him very soon if they weren’t already. The only place he wanted to go he didn’t dare. Graham would be visited before the night was out anyway if they didn’t find him quickly.

With no real place to go Grant just kept putting one foot in front of the other. He knew the soldiers would catch up with him eventually and worked to get himself under control before he had to face his father again.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe one of you guys can help me. If Sebastian is Prince, what titles would his family have if any?

Resignation had replaced most of his anger when the sun had sunk below the horizon. Sebastian would only ever see a man he hated. Grant sighed and slumped down against the edge of a marble fountain in one of the mostly deserted market squares. He leaned back against it, sitting on the paving stones and stared ahead into an empty stall.

There was little point in evading the soldiers. They would find him eventually and take him back to the castle. He would most likely be confined to his room for a week or two in punishment. If he was lucky he’d be able to continue his training, likely with an armed escort to Graham’s clinic and back. His thoughts turned to his mentor and their conversation before the lesson had truly begun for the day. Running away was beginning to look like the only way he was ever going to get away from that stern frown.

“What are you doing here?”

His thoughts scattered and he reached for his magic instinctively as he scrambled to his feet. Suddenly he was cut off from his magic and he grunted in shock. Carver Hawke stood a few feet to his left, his hands held palm out in front of and just to the side of his shoulders.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” Carver said frowning.

“What did you do?” Grant asked fearfully taking a step away.

“Silence. It’s temporary,” he replied almost gently. “I was a Templar. It’s a gut reaction to being targeted.”

“How did you know,” said Grant taking a few steps towards the fountain.

Carver sat cautiously on the edge of the fountain. “I know…Graham…would teach you to defend yourself. You should have been paying attention. It’s not exactly safe at night.”

Grant frowned in embarrassment. “I was thinking.”

He patted the space next to him and gripped his knees. “Problems?”

After a moment’s deliberation Grant sat next to him and gripped the marble edges. He glanced over, saw that Carver was still frowning and stared at the cobblestones between his feet. “Yeah.”

“Look,” Carver said hesitantly after a moment. “I’m not usually a great listener but…If you want to talk about it?”

“I got into a big argument with my father. I can’t leave the castle without permission and my sister whined him into letting her go to Tantervale. I ran away to calm down,” Grant said eventually. “Father…the soldiers will probably find me soon.”

“Sounds like you don’t really want to go back,” Carver said.

“I don’t,” he muttered. “The only way he’ll be happy is to lock me up and throw away the key.”

“I could take you to the stronghold in Antiva,” Carver offered. “There are plenty of people to teach you there.”

“I…don’t really want to leave my mother,” said Grant. “Besides, he’d probably just drag me back. They don’t know.”

“If he did know?”

“I always thought he’d throw me out but…I’m not so sure now,” said Grant glancing at him. “I know why hides me.” Grant slouched and frowned sullenly. “Father says he’s protecting me but I think he just see’s Anders when he looks at me. I’ve tried you know? Nothing makes him smile at me the way he does Douglas and Elle. It’s always a rotten frown. Elle pouts and she gets whatever she wants but I pout and I have to quote the chant.”

Carver snorted and he was shaking his head when Grant looked at him. His hands were clenched into fists and his frown had deepened considerably. He took a deep breath and slowly his hands flattened out. “Has it worn off yet?” he asked evenly.

“What?” Grant said in confusion. Carver smirked briefly and tapped his temple. “Oh…umm…no. I still can’t…feel it.”

He nodded and silence fell. Grant watched him stare at the stars and wondered what he was thinking. Rather than awkward it felt comfortable. The peace was broken by clanking armor after only a few minutes. Three soldiers entered the square and shouted as they ran towards the fountain. Grant became alarmed when they drew weapons as they ran. Grant stood moments after Carver did and stepped in front of him.

“Come away from him my Lord,” ordered the lead soldier as they cautiously approached.

“Put those away first,” Grant said.

“It’s all right,” Carver said pushing him gently to one side. “I’ll go peacefully as long as I get to talk to Sebastian.”

“Byron, get his sword,” said the same soldier.

Grant watched Carver turn slightly with his hands held up and out again. There was a sword and a spear leveled on him and the third sheathed his sword, pulling Grant further away from Carver and behind the other two before taking Carver’s great sword. The soldier who’d spoken put his sword away while the spear carrier moved around behind Carver. Grant was turned and marched through the city back to the castle.

He looked over his shoulder and saw Carver keeping pace behind with the other two soldiers on either side of him. The sounds of shouting and armor grew the closer they got to the castle. When the gates were in view others ran up to them and Grant was hustled inside. He lost track of Carver in the confusion and the strong grip on his arm prevented him from looking. Sebastian was staring up at the statue of Andraste in their private Chantry. As soon as Grant was brought in he turned. Anne hurried up to him and folded him into an embrace that he gladly returned.

“Thank the Maker you’re safe,” she said softly.

“Mother,” Grant said pulling away slightly. “There was a man with me. The soldiers brought him in too. Where have they taken him?”

“Are you all right?” Anne said worriedly holding him at arm’s length.

“You shouldn’t have run off,” Sebastian said sternly coming up to them.

“I’m fine,” said Grant in frustration. “What have they done with Carver? He didn’t do anything!”

“Prince Sebastian, I’m sorry but…” a soldier said behind them.

“You’re a right bastard,” Carver interrupted angrily.

Grant turned to see Carver wrenching his arm out of a soldiers’ grasp and striding for them, leaving three of them in his wake. He turned back to his father and found astonished recognition.

“Carver Hawke?” Sebastian asked stepping around them and holding out a hand to stop the soldiers. “What were you doing with my son?”

“Talking,” he spat back. Carver stopped with mere inches between him and Sebastian and poked his shoulder. “Have you forgotten what it feels like to be the odd one out?”

“What are you talking about?” Sebastian said irritably batting away his hand.

“I’m talking about treating him like a prisoner,” Carver said jerking a thumb at Grant. “By your own admission your parents left you out in the cold. Did you forget what it was like knowing they didn’t want you? Or can you not see past his face?”

Anne backed slowly into the pew they stood next to, pulling Grant with. He backed away with her, surprised at the intensity of Carver’s anger. Sebastian’s expression had gone cold.

“I have not forgotten,” said Sebastian evenly meeting his gaze. “Would you have me lose my son to others who will refuse to see past his resemblance to that monster?”

“How many actually know what Anders’ looked like?” retorted Carver. “No one cared about him until he destroyed the Chantry. You don’t get portraits done as an apostate either.”

“I wasn’t even sure until today,” Grant said angrily. “And don’t call him that! He was a healer!”

“That doesn’t excuse the hundreds of deaths he caused that night,” Sebastian said turning to him.

“He knew that you stubborn ass,” Carver interjected. “Garrett told me that he _wanted_ to die for it.”

“Then perhaps Hawke should have seen justice done,” Sebastian said angrily. “Instead of…”

“Enough!” Anne yelled suddenly. Silence descended immediately. “I am taking Grant to his room. Thank you for watching over my son Serah Hawke. The soldiers will see you out unharmed.” Carver nodded slightly, glared at Sebastian then turned and stalked away.

“Anne,” Sebastian began.

“We will discuss this later,” she interrupted.

Her tone was rather cold and Grant had a hard time keeping the secret glee he felt out of his expression. His parents didn’t often fight in his presence but the few he’d witnessed had been over him. Sebastian also nodded slightly and turned back to the statue of Andraste. Grant was guided out of the Chantry by a gentle grip on his shoulder.


	5. Chapter 5

Sebastian sighed as he stood. He gazed at the statue for a few minutes then sat on the pew behind him. With his elbows upright on his knees he laced his fingers together and leaned forward until his thumbs were resting against his forehead. The revelations of this night had been terrible.

Carver’s surprising presence explained some of Grant’s sudden knowledge of Anders but not all of it. He hadn’t specifically kept that knowledge from his son but he’d never told him of his uncanny resemblance to the abomination. He wondered how Grant had met Carver. The only possibilities were his mentor or his trip to the market the previous day. That Grant had confided in a perfect stranger was disturbing.

He sat back when he heard the rustle of skirts coming near. His hands were now folded in his lap and he looked up at Anne when she stood in front of him. She was frowning with her arms crossed under her bosom.

“That man has a point,” said Anne her voice still a little cold.

“He does,” Sebastian said calmly. “There are people who know however. One fanatic Anne. Then our son is lost.”

“You can’t keep him here forever.”

“No,” he sighed. “He has already found the best routes out and has likely snuck out a few times.” Anne nodded silently and Sebastian sighed again. “It was never my intention to…single him out.”

“You have,” Anne said sitting beside him. “Grant has tried so hard to please you. Why are you so hard on him?”

“My own misspent youth,” said Sebastian softly. “He showed no talent with blades and no interest in the bow. I had hoped he would embrace a quiet life of reflection. If Elthina had lived…”

“I know she meant a great deal to you,” said Anne placing a hand over his. “Are you sure Grant’s resemblance to her killer hasn’t swayed you?”

“Perhaps it has,” Sebastian said threading their fingers together. “I have prayed for guidance.”

“Are you ashamed of him?” asked Anne after a few moments.

“No,” Sebastian said softly. “I had no idea…it shames me that my son believes I hate him.”

“Then you must show him you don’t,” said Anne firmly. “Letting him move freely through the city would be a good start.”

Sebastian shook his head and squeezed her hand to stall her angry retort. “I see the necessity but I worry for his safety.”

“I worry as well Sebastian,” Anne said quietly. “But you must let him have some freedom.”

“Let us retire,” Sebastian said standing. “Perhaps a solution will become clear.”

*

“You did what!?!” Garrett said in astonishment.

“You heard me,” Carver grumbled.

“Maker’s Breath Carver,” he moaned leaning back in his chair. “Not the brightest thing to do but I sort of wish I’d been there.”

“What was I supposed to do?” said Carver pacing the length of his small house. “That’s not a short leash. Grant’s a prisoner.”

“I don’t know honestly,” Garrett sighed. “I can’t actually do much to help him. I can’t even get Sebastian to let him come to the clinic more often. This isn’t the first time he’s run off after a row. Normally Grant comes straight here.”

“He was miserable when I came across him,” Carver said stopping in front of the cold fireplace.

“Hopefully you’ve made an impression on both of them.” Garrett stood and stretched. “Grant’s knight in shining armor and Sebastian’s bane.”

“Grant looked shocked more than anything,” said Carver. He turned away from the fireplace and followed his brother into the bedroom. “Sebastian just got angry.”

“Who has enough courage to get in Sebastian’s face like that,” Garrett said. “I’d love to tell him what I actually think but I can’t afford to give him any clues.”

“Why hasn’t Sebastian recognized you?” Carver sat on his pallet spread out on the floor and looked up at Garrett sitting on the edge of his bed.

“Before I moved here the last time we saw each other was the last night in Kirkwall.” Garrett rubbed the scar that ran along the left side of his jaw. “I’m sure this helps.”

“You never did tell me how you got that.”

“Stepped on a trap,” Garrett said with a shrug. “It turned me into a pincushion. I had just enough potions to keep me alive. Good night Carver.”

Garrett blew out the candle and plunged the room into darkness. “Good night brother,” he said quietly.

Carver lay down and laced his fingers together under his head. In hindsight calling the ruler of the city a bastard probably hadn’t been the smartest thing he’d ever done. He knew that if Sebastian’s soldiers hadn’t been directly behind him he probably would have thrown a punch instead of poking his shoulder. The obvious favoritism was still infuriating especially from someone who knew what it was like to not be the favorite.

He suppressed a snort and stared up at the ceiling. Sleep was long in coming.

*

After a long night of broken sleep Sebastian wasn’t any closer to figuring out how to give Grant the freedom he desired while still being relatively assured of his safety. Anne was still rather unhappy with him but he wouldn’t compromise Grant’s life. During breakfast Elle was excited and chattered happily. He discussed the day’s business with Douglas in between. Down the table Grant was silent as usual but extremely sullen. Sebastian had followed him to his room at a distance afterwards but left without knocking on the door.

Unable to focus on missives and requests he’d taken his bow to the target range. There was little need to use it now a days but he’d kept practicing all the years between. It was easy to clear his mind as he drew the string and sighted down the arrow. The string snapped back as he let go and the arrow flew at the target. Sebastian drew another one and lost himself to the rhythm. He walked forward after ten arrows, found them clustered around the middle circle.

For a half an hour he repeated the process. Sebastian took his bow and arrows inside, his mind clear, and went directly to the Chantry. He knelt in front of the statue, set his bow in front of him, clasped his hands together and prayed.

“Of course,” he said quietly a while later.

Sebastian grabbed his bow and hurried up to Grant’s room. He knocked on the door and waited a few moments before opening it. Grant sat on his bed, a thin book open in his lap. He hunched over a little and snapped it shut when he saw Sebastian in the doorway.

“Father,” said Grant gloomily.

“I have been…unfair,” Sebastian said stepping inside and closing the door. “Anne wishes me to allow you access to the city. I will consent on one condition.”

“Really?” he said in shock. His expression became guarded and he frowned. “What’s the condition?”

“A bodyguard,” said Sebastian calmly. “One of the guards. Someone completely trustworthy who will protect you.”

Grant’s frown deepened and he set the book on the bed. He stood and paced back and forth across the room for a few minutes. Sebastian waited patiently until Grant stopped in front of him. “Can I have a choice about who the bodyguard is?”

“Did you have someone in mind?” Sebastian asked frowning.

“Carver Hawke,” Grant said his shoulders slumping in disappointment.

“Where did you meet Carver?”

“He’s Graham’s…friend. I met him at the clinic.”

Sebastian wondered at the pause but pushed it from the front of his mind. Even though he hadn’t been around Hawke’s younger brother much he knew him to be skilled. He was very loyal and straight forward. Sebastian nodded slowly and watched Grant’s expression turn hopeful.

“If he agrees,” Sebastian said firmly. “Let us see if Carver is at Graham’s clinic.”

Grant smiled as Sebastian turned to the door. He hoped he wouldn’t regret this decision.


	6. Chapter 6

Carver held down the shoulders of a young man half his age. There was a stick held tightly between his teeth. The man was washed out and sweating from pain, his two friends holding down the leg that wasn’t obviously broken. Garrett gave no warning as he wrenched the leg straight. He screamed and struggled a moment before his eyes rolled back in his head.

“Get the stick and turn his head to the side,” Garrett ordered absently. “You two can let go as well.”

Silently Carver plucked the stick from his mouth and gently turned his head to the side. He took a few steps away, watching as his brother wrapped linen along with two metal rods around his leg. The bell Garrett had hung over the door tinkled and Carver looked over. Sebastian stepped through and his gaze landed on Carver. Grant closed the door and stepped around him.

“Have a seat please,” Garrett said absently. “I’ll be with you shortly.”

The two men had turned as well and they bowed. Grant stood still for a moment, his gaze looking between Carver and Garrett. He glanced at Sebastian, who hadn’t looked away from Carver, and went to Garrett.

“That’s quite all right Graham,” Sebastian said pleasantly. 

“Prince Vael,” Garrett said sounding mildly surprised. He glanced at Grant, who smiled briefly. Garrett handed the linen to him and brushed his hands against his shirt. “What brings you here?”

“I’d like to speak with Carver,” said Sebastian.

“Come to argue some more?” Carver asked frowning.

“I’ve come to offer you employment,” Sebastian said calmly.

“Employ…what?”

“Last night’s incident has brought a few things to my attention,” Sebastian said stepping forward. “My son wants more freedom but I fear for his safety. Grant would like you to be his personal bodyguard.”

Carver’s gaze snapped to Grant. He was bent over the patient, holding his leg at the knee and ankle. His face was away from him but he could see Garrett’s clearly. A large grin dominated as he carefully wrapped the linen.

“Can we discuss this outside?” he asked scowling at his brother.

“Certainly,” Sebastian said turning.

He followed Sebastian to the door and looked back before stepping through. Garrett was still grinning and nodded slightly. Grant had turned slightly as well. His expression was a mix of hope, worry and excitement. Carver followed Sebastian out the door and found himself in the middle of a ring of soldiers. Sebastian stood at the center, his hands at his side, his expression stern. Carver stopped in front of him and folded his arms across his chest.

“How do you know Graham Harrison?” Sebastian asked.

“Old friend from Lothering,” Carver replied. “Isn’t Grant a little old to need a sitter?”

“Grant doesn’t need a nanny. He needs a trained warrior who can protect him from undesirable individuals. You would not have been my first choice, but you are whom he wishes.”

“You didn’t care what he wanted before.”

“I do care,” Sebastian said frowning as his brows pulled down. “I have unintentionally singled him out. I will not endanger my son however. This is a satisfactory compromise. I know you to be skilled. You were loyal and despite your abrasive attitude you cared deeply for your family and those you consider friends.”

“All right,” said Carver after a moment of thought. “I’ll do it. When do I start and what’s the pay?”

“Pay can be discussed later, in private,” Sebastian said. “I would like you to start now. I’ll have a room prepared in the castle for you close to Grant’s. I will speak with Anne and we can go through details this evening.”

“Fair enough,” Carver said evenly.

He turned and walked back into Garrett’s clinic. They were finished wrapping the man’s leg and Grant stood to one side while Garrett tried to coax him awake. Sebastian followed him in and Carver watched closely as he spoke softly in Grant’s ear. The boy smiled broadly and nodded. Sebastian gripped his shoulder briefly, nodded at Carver and left.

“Thank you!” Grant said excitedly as he hurried up to Carver. “Thank you so much.”

“Why me?” Carver asked. “You barely know me.”

“No one but Mother has ever stood up for me before,” he replied. “You know Graham, Father knows you and…umm…”

Spots of color bloomed on his cheeks and he gazed at the floor. Garrett chuckled and Carver glared at the back of his head.

“Anyway,” Grant said turning back to Garrett. “Graham, would you mind if I came by a little more often now that I can?”

“Give me a moment Grant,” Garrett said. “Let me get this fellow on his way and we can discuss a few things.”

Carver followed Grant to the back of the room and sat at the edge of the desk. Grant paced for a moment then sat next to him, smiling nervously.

“So,” he said softly. “Did Father say anything?”

“About what?” Carver said also softly.

“Last night.”

“He’s realized that he’s made you a prisoner. I guess he must be really worried about someone offing you because you look like Anders if he’s willing to let me follow you around.”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” said Grant in a small voice.

“How could you?” said Carver. “You had no idea what he looked like until you started dreaming of him did you.”

“I didn’t know.” Grant frowned a little and looked up at him. “How did you know about the dreams?”

“Ga…err…Graham told me.”

Grant’s frown turned into a tiny smile. “Is he really your brother?”

“Figure that out from my journals?” Garrett asked cheerfully.

Carver frowned irritably and Grant jumped at his sudden appearance. Neither of them had heard the bell over the door.

“No,” Grant said sheepishly. “I listened at the window.”

“Sneaky,” said Garrett grinning. “I would appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t,” Grant said solemnly.

“Now, down to business,” Garrett said briskly. “I’d like you to come here as often as you can since Carver’s your new shadow. I need to spend as much time as possible training you. You still need to learn better control. That’s why you ran off last night isn’t it.”

“Partly,” Grant replied. “I was just so mad…I still think he hates me.”

“Not that I really want to defend him,” Garrett said wryly. “But isn’t hate a little strong?”

“How many years has he held a grudge against you brother?” Carver said. “He stopped looking when Starkhaven demanded his attention.”

“Point taken,” said Garrett. “So, are you going to stick around today or do you want to enjoy your freedom for a bit?”

“I’d like to walk through the city,” Grant said immediately. His eager expression faded a bit and he looked at Carver. “Is that all right?”

“You’re the boss,” Carver said with a shrug. “My job is to follow you around and look intimidating so everyone else doesn’t get ideas. Just make sure we stop at his house so I can get my stuff before we go back to the castle.”

“You’re going to be staying at the castle?” Grant said his eyes wide in shock.

“Sebastian said he’d have a room for me close to yours. Details handed out later.”

His eager smile returned and Grant stood. “I’ll see you tomorrow Graham. As early as I can get here.”

“All right,” Garrett said. He turned away from Grant as Carver stood. Garrett grinned and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Carver scowled and brushed past him, following his excited charge to the door.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not real happy with this chapter but posting anyway.

“Lunch first,” Grant said eagerly when the door of clinic shut behind them. “Father said I had to be back for supper. How much of the city have you actually seen?”

“I’ve been here a couple times,” Carver said. “I usually stick to the poorer areas though.”

“Starkhaven is beautiful,” he said starting off down the street. “The estates, the fountains, statues, the castle gardens are quiet lovely.”

Carver followed a few steps behind, listening to his excited chatter. He watched the people around them as they moved through the streets, Grant pausing every now and then when someone actually acknowledged him. He was very different from the sullen young man he’d come across the night before. It didn’t surprise him how happy this little bit of freedom had made him. What surprised him was Grant’s acceptance of him.

Even if he did have a crush, which seemed more than likely at this point, having anyone follow him around should have been annoying at the very least. Anders certainly would have made a huge fuss over it. Grant didn’t seem to be bothered at all. Carver wondered if he had truly made the difference.

“Here,” Grant said holding out a meat pie.

“Of all the fancy choices you pick a stand that sells meat pies?” Carver said taking the offered food. “You can find these on any street corner in any city.”

“I’ve never had one,” he replied taking a big bite of the one he still held. He watched Grant chew and swallow his eyes alight and humming contentedly. “It’s good.”

Carver couldn’t hold in a small smile and followed him to a nearby bench. Grant sat and took another bite, all of his attention on the simple meal he’d chosen. He sat next to him, watched the people passing by in front, listened for anything suspicious behind and ate. The silence between them was companionable as Grant devoured his meal. Carver was only half finished when Grant licked his fingers and brushed crumbs off of his tunic.

“That was delicious,” Grant sighed happily. “I’m still sort of hungry though.”

“You should try those apple fritters,” Carver said pointing out the nearby stand. “Probably never had those either. A simple desert but very tasty.”

“Do you want one?” said Grant as he stood.

“Nah, this will be fine.”

Carver watched closely as he walked to the nearby stand. Grant smiled and pointed, coin changed hands and he walked slowly back to the bench. The plaza they were in wasn’t completely crowded but he noticed how people moved out of his way. Even though few had acknowledged his status as son of the reigning Prince, the people of the city knew who he was.

He made a mental note of it, wondering if it would make his job easier or a little more difficult. Grant was half finished by the time he got back to the bench. Carver noticed that Grant sat much closer than he had. He was careful not to react even though the proximity made him a little uncomfortable. Garrett might be excited about Grant’s crush but he was completely unsure.

The resemblance was remarkable as well as the similarities in their personalities. He couldn’t deny the desire he felt but the sheer age difference was daunting. Now that he was employed by Sebastian any sort of sexual relationship with Grant might just get him executed. For now he would try to remain carefully neutral.

They finished eating around the same time and Grant led him on a tour of Starkhaven. He had to admit that the city was quite beautiful. Most of the streets were made of granite and marble fountains and statues were scattered everywhere. The estates were large and sprawling, most with at least a large flower garden but more often with flowers, carefully manicured hedges and according to Grant paths the led through with benches interspersed.

While Grant pointed out landmarks and spoke at length about his city Carver listened politely and watched everyone around him. They were mostly ignored by citizens and soldiers alike. The soldier’s gazes usually stopped for a few seconds on Grant and lingered on him for a few more before moving on. Sebastian had to have spread the word quickly about his status as bodyguard and Grant’s new freedom. He couldn’t help but wonder what the soldiers would do if he weren’t present.

When they had circled around to the plaza where they’d begun the afternoon was mostly gone. Grant sat on a bench and sighed as he stretched out his long legs. “My feet are a bit sore,” he said rather cheerfully. “Not sure I’ve ever walked so much in one afternoon.”

“I’ve walked all over Thedas,” Carver said sitting next to him. “If you weren’t allowed out how do you know you’re way around so well?”

“I’ve been sneaking out for years,” said Grant sheepishly. “Ever since I was twelve and tried to run away.”

“You tried to run away?”

“Yeah. That’s when Graham found me.”

“Ah, a late bloomer.”

“That’s what Graham said. After he cornered me in an alley. I think I understand the look on his face a little better now.”

“Ever notice anyone else looked shocked when they met you?”

“None that I recall,” Grant replied after a moment of thought. “Just you. That’s why I listened at the window.”

“Thought maybe I was seeing things for a moment,” Carver said glancing at him while he watched the plaza. “I know he’s dead. I built the pyre and scattered his ashes myself.”

“I know how he died,” Grant said softly staring down at his lap. “It’s one of the dreams I keep having. I’m…he…is running through a field towards a forest. I stumble when I get hit by an arrow. I can’t reach it, can’t heal it, so I crawl…but I can’t go on. There’s a voice…calling his name…but I always wake before I can see the person or place the voice.”

“You recognize the voice then?” Carver asked cautiously.

“I do,” said Grant looking up at him. “These dreams…they’re very vivid. During the dream I know exactly what he’s feeling, what he’s doing. When I wake though…I remember the dream but details fade. The voice I remember from the dream…he knows who’s behind him. I’m sure of that. I recognize the voice but…I can’t place it. I’m always panicked when I wake from this one.”

Carver frowned in thought. He’d never known exactly how Anders had died but he always suspected Sebastian had caught up to him. If Grant really had dreamed of Anders’ final moments Carver thought he had his confirmation. Sebastian had found Anders, killed him and left him for the crows.

“Were you close?” Grant asked sort of timidly.

“Pardon?”

“You…looked really mad all of a sudden. Were you and Anders close?”

“Not really. I…couldn’t talk to him without starting an argument. He and my brother were best of friends though.”

“You seemed so defensive the other day.”

“Well,” Carver said hesitantly. He looked over and found Grant’s gaze intent but innocently curious. “I had…a thing…for him.”

“You _liked_ him?”

“Yeah…yeah I did. He didn’t know. Probably hated me more than anything.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell him?”

“I grew up with three mages. My father spent most of my childhood training my brother and my sister. I didn’t see him that often and I felt left out. All Anders ever talked about was the mage’s plight. I’d had enough of that long before I met him. He never seemed too interested either.”

“I don’t think he hated you,” Grant said softly after a moment. “I’ve had a few dreams with you in them. The feeling I remember is more frustration than anything else.”

“Doesn’t matter much now,” Carver sighed. “Come on. Let’s get my things.”

“All right,” said Grant.

They stood and Grant led the way like he had all afternoon. Carver stayed close and tried to put Anders out of his mind again.


	8. Chapter 8

Grant lay on his bed late one night two weeks later. His nightshirt was rucked up to his armpits, his small clothes still wrapped around one ankle and the blankets had been pushed down to the end of the bed. He lay on his side, his back arched forwards and his knees were bent slightly. With his eyes squeezed shut, his bottom lip caught between his teeth, one hand was wrapped around his stiff cock and two fingers from his other hand shuttled quickly in and out of his arse.

It hadn’t taken too long to figure out a use for the odd grease spell Graham had taught him the day after Carver became his bodyguard. Grant had asked about the uses for this spell but Graham had only smirked and glanced at Carver leaning against a nearby tree aiming an incredible scowl at his brother. After a rather racy dream where Anders had been sleeping with a dark-haired rogue Grant realized why Graham had taught him the grease spell. He’d put it to use that very night and periodically since.

His thoughts at the moment were centered on Carver, imagining him in place of the rogue from his dream. He worried his lip between his teeth to keep quiet, concentrated on the steady slide of his fingers and jerked erratically at his cock. Pleasure built quickly and released suddenly. Grant lay there panting for a moment, letting his fingers slide out one final time. He curled up the other direction, around the sticky mess on his sheets.

He always felt slightly guilty for imagining Carver behind him. Grant wasn’t at all sure Carver wanted that but he wanted it very badly. Neither of his parents would approve. Sebastian probably wouldn’t approve of _this_ activity never mind actual sex with an older man. Whether it was the fact that Carver was a man or that he was so much older than Grant that his father wouldn’t like he didn’t really know. He was inclined not to care much either.

When his breathing had evened out Grant pulled his small clothes off and cleaned as much of his spend from the sheets as he could. He then cleaned his hands and made a token effort at cleaning his arse. The small clothes went over the side and he worked his nightshirt back down. The servants wouldn’t mention stained sheets and so far none of them had mentioned the new stains on his small clothes.

Grant was glad that they hadn’t. He’d been masturbating regularly for a couple of years but he was a little worried of what he’d be accused of if his parents knew of the grease stains. Like most everything else Sebastian had higher expectations of him and stricter rules concerning sex. It had never been said outright but Grant knew he was expected to remain pure. Before he’d met Carver the trouble he’d cause for a potential partner and himself hadn’t been worth it.

Carver’s age would likely cause more trouble but Grant was quickly beginning to not care. He really wanted to be impaled on the older man’s cock. His feelings for Carver had become quite muddled over the last two weeks but the desire he felt to be writhing on his lap or pinned to the bed being pounded by the warrior were clear as glass.

As much as he wanted it Grant did his best to curb the naughty thoughts anywhere someone else could see. If his father suspected that he was seriously lusting after his bodyguard Carver would likely be banished or worse. When he was alone however those naughty thoughts ran rampant. Grant’s problem was he didn’t know how to ask for sex without being impolite or very crude. He wasn’t even sure how to ascertain if Carver was even interested.

He sighed and pulled the blankets up around him. Maybe he could ask Graham about it when he returned the second set of journals tomorrow. They would be walking down the Minanter a ways on an herb gathering trip that would probably be turned into magic lessons if no one else was around. Grant fell asleep wondering how he could ask Graham a few things without being specific about who he was interested in.

There was only one room between Grant and Carver. Grant usually didn’t see him until after breakfast however. He normally waited just outside the dining room. His clothes hadn’t changed much except for a leather jerkin with Starhaven’s crest on the back. Because he knew they’d be out of the city, Grant had chosen a plain pair of trousers and a shirt that wouldn’t get caught on every branch and twig they passed. They weren’t skin tight but offered a better view of certain body parts than his normal clothing did.

Grant had worn the outfit before but he hadn’t noticed the way Carver’s eyes seemed to linger around his midsection before meeting his eyes. He smiled and rubbed his thighs, watching closely as Carver’s gaze drifted down again. Grant deliberately turned and glanced back over his shoulder before starting off down the hall. His gaze had been where Grant had hoped it would be.

“I have to get the books Graham lent me,” Grant said.

Carver followed him down the hall quietly. Grant didn’t hurry but he didn’t waste time either. Since they were still in the castle he didn’t dare hope Carver was still looking at his arse, even though going up the stairs would have given him a nice view. He did allow himself to hope that Carver was interested however. He focused on his task, hoping to keep his desire from becoming visible. Carver stopped in the doorway as usual.

“You look nice today,” Carver said casually leaning against the doorjamb.

“Thank you,” Grant said glancing over his shoulder. “You don’t like my normal shirts?”

“Not really,” Carver replied. “Too frilly and puffy.”

“I never really cared,” said Grant shrugging as he pulled open a drawer on his desk. “As son of the Prince I guess I’m expected to keep up with the fashions but all of that’s done for me. I had to request clothes that are appropriate for the wilderness.”

“A mile out of the city isn’t wilderness,” Carver snorted.

“It is to me.” Grant smiled and straightened. He crossed the distance holding the thin volumes in one hand. Grant stopped with barely a hand span between them and continued quietly, looking slightly upwards to see his face. “If you hadn’t agreed I wouldn’t be going out there at all. I’d be stuck in the basement of the clinic hoping the soldier my father chose wouldn’t notice anything odd.”

“Good point,” said Carver absently.

The small frown he normally wore had disappeared. His lips were pressed into a tight line, his gaze intense. A finger skated briefly across Grant’s cheekbone and partially down his jaw. Grant’s stomach jumped up a few inches in anticipation.

“Don’t get caught Carver,” he muttered backing away suddenly. His frown was back as he gestured down the hallway. “Lead on.”

Grant took a deep breath and nodded. He started off down the corridor trying to calm the excited flutter in his gut. He was unsure of what exactly Carver had been about to do. One thing he was now positive of though was that Carver was interested.

The guards at the gates noted their exit but did nothing to stop them. Grant led the way to Graham’s house, his excitement changing tracks slightly. Any trip into the city was still reason enough but going beyond the city’s borders was more than enough. In the last two weeks Graham had wrestled permission to take him out of Starkhaven. Grant wasn’t sure how he’d accomplished it but suspected that it was a combined effort from Graham, Carver and his mother.

Carver’s silence didn’t bother him. The warrior was often quiet in the castle and the city immediately surrounding the castle. His expression didn’t often change from serious or that small frown but Grant had grown used to that as well. Grant seemed to be the only person he actually smiled at.

Graham was waiting for them outside his little hut when they arrived. He stepped inside briefly to put the journals away and they started off down the river. Grant focused on his instruction as they walked, Carver a comforting presence behind. The herb discussion lasted even after Graham had taken them down a side path. He pointed out plants and explained what they were used for, showed him the best way to harvest and store them.

When the morning was half gone Graham looked around the clearing they stood in. Trees were scattered sparsely to his left and he could hear the river some distance away to his right. The path they had been traveling along was small and deserted. Graham clapped his hands together and turned to them.

“This looks like a good spot,” he said cheerfully.

“I’ll just go over there,” Carver said brushing past them.

Grant watched him cross the clearing until Graham snapped his fingers in front of his face.

“Focus lad,” Graham said seriously. “If you’re going to be a good mage you can’t let anything distract you. Letting your attention wander can cause spells to go horribly awry.”

“Sorry,” Grant said sheepishly.

“Perfectly all right,” said Graham smiling. “Let’s get started. Ice balls today. A little too much grass for fire.”

For the next two hours Grant conjured ice balls of various sizes. He focused on Graham and feeding the spell enough mana to make it the size he’d been ordered to create. The ground around them had become slushy with melting ice by the time lunch had been declared. Grant stepped carefully through the mushy substance, glad for a break.

“Found a use for that grease spell yet?” Graham asked with a smirk.

“Umm…yes…actually,” Grant said blushing furiously. “I have.”

“I have sandwiches in my pack if you’d like to go gather up Carver we’ll eat by the river,” Graham said. “I’ll be just down there.”

Grant nodded as he pointed and turned in the direction Carver had gone. He took a few steps forward and stopped. Carver had taken off his shirt and the leather jerkin. He was at the other edge of the clearing, swinging his large sword around in what appeared to be a perfect, well-practiced dance. Grant watched for a moment, entranced.

“Well go on,” Graham said sounding very amused from behind him. “Carver won’t bite. Well, he might if you asked nicely.”

“Graham,” Grant hissed feeling his cheeks heat again as he turned.

He smirked and made a little shooing gesture with his free hand. “Nothing ventured nothing gained lad,” Graham said. “I’ll just be over here, out of ear shot.”

Grant took a deep breath and turned back to Carver.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took me by surprise. I didn't expect Carver to be quite so eager but...I guess he is.

Grant stopped well short of his arcing blade. Carver was intent as he moved and swung. He just watched for a moment, enjoying the smooth motions and the way his muscles flexed and bunched. Grant was beginning to understand why Elle was a little obsessed with the soldiers. She could often be found on the balcony overlooking the practice yard.

Carver straightened suddenly and turned to him, sword point stuck in the ground. “Yeah?”

“Oh…uhh…lunch,” Grant said smiling nervously. He tugged on the bottom of his shirt, stepping forward. “Were you…practicing?”

“Yes,” Carver replied arming sweat off of his forehead. “It’s the best way to stay sharp. Where’s Garrett?”

“Down by the river,” said Grant taking a few more steps closer. The mat of hair on his chest was broken by scars. He circled curiously, finding more on his sides and back. They were faded, most little more than thin lines. “So many scars.”

“That happens when you live on the road,” Carver said watching him. “I could wear armor I suppose but…”

“Don’t do that,” Grant blurted out quickly. “Then I couldn’t see…” His cheeks were burning again as he pressed his lips together.

Carver gave him one of those tiny smiles and shrugged. “Never much liked it anyway.”

“So,” Grant said turning to retrieve his shirt and the jerkin from the branch he’d draped them over. “Can you dance?”

“No,” said Carver in confusion. “I’m not expected to, am I?”

“Well no,” said Grant turning back and holding out the clothing. “When you were practicing, it looked sort of like a dance.”

“Ah.” Carver took the clothes and balanced the flat of his blade on his shoulder. “Without a sword in my hand I’ve got two left feet. Learning the forms was difficult enough since I had to watch the Lothering Templars. I’ve practiced them for years now though.”

“It was interesting to watch. Beautiful…”

“Should have seen me twenty years ago. Strong…good reflexes. I’ve lost some over the years.”

“Experience is good though…right?”

“It can keep you alive against a stronger opponent,” Carver said giving him a funny look.

Grant did his best not to fidget under his intense searching gaze. “What?” he finally asked. “Do I have something on my face?”

“Are you really a virgin?” Carver asked quietly, his tone even and serious.

“Do…fingers count?” Grant replied wishing that it wasn’t quite so easy to see him blushing.

“That’s a yes,” Carver sighed looking at the ground. “Why me?”

“Lots of reasons,” said Grant softly. “You stood up for me. You actually talk to me. I…don’t have to hide half of myself. I’m tired of not getting things everyone else does. Neither Douglas nor Elle are virgins. I think that’s why Elle wanted to go to Tantervale so badly. The soldier she’s been…seeing…was assigned to the envoy.”

“Maker,” growled Carver in annoyance. “The more I learn the more he pisses me off. Your sister isn’t that much older than you are.”

“Little less than a year and half,” Grant said with a shrug. He flopped onto the ground and began plucking at the grass sullenly. “Does this mean you’re not…interested?”

“Where’d you get that idea?” Carver said irritably.

When Grant looked up Carver was kneeling in front of him. His sword was stuck in the ground beside him, his clothes still clutched in one hand. Carver was frowning, looming over him. Instead of being intimidated like he probably should have been, he could feel his trousers becoming uncomfortable instead. Grant swallowed hard and opened his mouth but nothing came out.

His face softened a tad and he reached out with his free hand, thumb stroking along his cheek. “Do you know how odd it is to see this face so off balance?”

Grant shook his head a tiny bit, his voice still absent.

“He wasn’t embarrassed so easily.”

Carver moved his hand to the back of Grant’s head and leaned forward. He pressed their lips together, brief and chaste. The warrior was gone before Grant could react.

“You make me feel like a perverted old man but…” Carver said hesitantly standing a few feet away. “There’s nothing I want more than to give you exactly what you want.”

“There’s no one around now,” said Grant rising up on his knees.

“My brother is,” said Carver grimacing. “I really don’t need his critiquing on top of the teasing.”

“Please,” Grant begged rising to his feet. “He’s going to tease us anyway. I’m so hard…”

“Turn around,” Carver said after a brief look over his shoulder.

Grant did as he was told, a little confused and very excited. Moments later he felt Carver against him. He pushed his bottom against the warrior behind him and bit his lip at the feel of his stiff member.

“Maker your eager,” he said wrapping an arm around Grant’s chest and the other around his waist. “Relax Grant. I’m not doing that out here where Garrett might be watching.”

“What are you doing then?” said Grant craning his neck to look behind him.

“I’m just going to tug you off.”

“Carver, please,” Grant pouted.

“Believe me,” he said with a small smile. “There’s no rush. We’ll have to be careful but your first time shouldn’t be a quickie in the middle of nowhere.”

Grant nodded, disappointed but still excited. He tried to relax, turning his head to rest on the larger man’s shoulder. The arm around his chest didn’t move but after a moment the arm around his waist did. The laces on his trousers were pulled loose and Grant felt his hand sliding between his abdomen and his small clothes. Grant squeezed his eyes shut and spread his legs a little as Carver palmed him briefly then pushed his clothing down a little.

“Ah shit,” Carver muttered. “Grant would you unlace my trousers. Thought I could just ignore it. Don’t get your hopes up though. I’ve been staring at your ass all morning.”

He grinned and reached behind him after Carver had moved his arm up around his shoulders. Grant pulled awkwardly at the laces while his trousers and small clothes were pushed further down. Carver backed away for a moment, both of his hands disappearing. Grant felt his shirt pulled up and then Carver was back, skin to skin from his arse to his shoulder blades.

Against his arse he felt Carver’s cock, stiff and trapped between their bodies. Grant gripped the arm that was back around his chest and mewled softly when Carver gripped his stiff cock. No other words were spoken as Carver began rutting against him. Grant opened his eyes and watched Carver stroke his cock, listened to the soft grunts in his ear. It was so close to what he wanted, Carver moving against him instead of inside him, but still more than he’d allowed himself to hope for when he got up this morning.

It didn’t take long at all for Grant to peak. Breath was gusting in his ear as he hung limply in Carver’s grasp. His rutting sped, his arm back around Grant’s waist. The rhythm stuttered and he heard a soft curse before he felt Carver’s spend at the small of his back. They stood motionless for a moment, Grant still clinging to the arms around him.

“He’s going to know,” Carver said glumly.

“He’ll tease us both at least,” Grant said diplomatically.

“Small comfort,” said Carver.

Lips were suddenly at his neck, kissing softly while hands slid across his skin. They moved across his stomach and down his chest, coming to rest at his hips.

“Oh…oh…umm,” Grant stuttered. He moved his head to the side and let his hands rest on top of Carvers. “That feels…oh…”

“Think you can sneak into my room tonight,” Carver said pulling away slightly. “After everyone else is asleep?”

“Definitely,” said Grant after a deep breath.

“Stand still,” said Carver. “Let me clean you off.”

He felt hands swiping at his back and Grant hoped he could concentrate for the rest of the day.


	10. Chapter 10

Garrett was standing at the very edge of the bank when Carver, now wearing his shirt but holding the jerkin and his sword, and Grant approached. He turned, looking a bit disappointed.

“That didn’t take quite as long as I’d hoped,” said Garrett. He stepped closer to Grant and rubbed his chin. A grin began to spread across his face. “No grass in the hair…nice and flushed though.”

Grant was actually beet red but he stubbornly met Garrett’s gaze.

“Hmm…secret meeting later maybe,” said Garrett his eyes twinkling merrily. “Carver can be quite the gentlemen when he wants to be.”

“Oh leave off it,” Carver said irritably. He sat and set his sword next to him within easy reach. “I’m not going to roll around in the grass and get prodded in odd spots by rocks.”

“A roll in the grass can be quite fun,” Garrett said cheerfully sidestepping to pick up his pack.

“And how many times did you get caught with hay in your hair?” Carver asked as Grant sat quietly next to him.

“Only once or twice by Mother,” he replied rummaging around. “Father…around four I think. You had a knack for it though.”

“How old were you?” Grant asked accepting the sandwich Garrett offered him.

“Sixteen,” Garrett said smirking. “I was quite precocious back in the day.”

Carver snorted and took the sandwich he was offered. “More like a menace. I was eighteen before you ask.”

“All joking aside,” Garrett said suddenly serious. He sat a little apart from them and aimed an intense look at Grant. “You need to work on that guilty look. Sebastian was quite the lady’s man in his younger days. He’ll spot something off rather quickly.”

“Did I really look guilty?” Grant asked softly.

“You still do,” said Garrett gently. “I’m sorry you both have to sneak around. You really shouldn’t have to. But until someone can convince your father to let you be yourself…”

“I know,” Grant said bitterly. “He still doesn’t smile at me.”

“I don’t think he’s quite given up on putting you in the Chantry either,” Carver said.

“That wouldn’t go very well,” said Grant frowning. “I know I have to but…I’m already tired of hiding my magic.”

“Oh,” said Garrett grinning suddenly. “I just had a thought.”

“Unthink it,” said Carver glaring at him.

“Don’t be so unimaginative Carver,” Garrett chided. “You’ll really like these spells.”

“We’re trying _not_ to get caught.”

“There’s always a nice roll in the grass,” said Garrett standing. “Don’t worry about me peeking. I’m more than happy to leave you to it. I’ll even bring a nice blanket for you.”

“Garrett,” moaned Carver.

“Andraste’s knickers,” Grant murmured.

“Hurry up you two,” he said chuckling. “Grant’s concentration is going to be rubbish so I want to get back and deal with these herbs.”

“Was he always so cheeky?” Grant asked softly after Garrett had moved away.

“He used to be a lot worse,” Carver sighed. “Let’s get a move on before he leaves us behind.”

The afternoon was spent at Garrett’s clinic. Carver sat at the desk while Grant attempted to pay attention to Garrett. His eyes kept drifting to the boy’s arse. It didn’t really help that he kept bringing attention to it. Grant would tug on his shirt and smooth it over his rear or rub his thighs. Carver didn’t think he was doing it on purpose, most of it at any rate.

It was a little easier to hide their eagerness when they left the clinic. Grant knew as well as Carver did that if they were caught the price would be high. Carver focused on his duties, which worked fairly well until they were actually in the castle. With all the soldiers guarding entrances and patrolling the battlements there wasn’t much reason for him to be as vigilant. He had never shirked his responsibilities in the castle but today he found it a little harder to concentrate on them.

Grant spent most of the time with his nose in one of the three journals that Garrett had sent him off with. Carver spent most of that time trying not to think of an eager teen sharing his bed. He’d spent the two previous weeks coming to terms with his desires. Grant was so very similar to Anders that it had brought all of his feelings to the surface again. As similar as they were there were also differences.

Anders was talkative while Grant usually watched and listened. Grant was kind and polite to the elven servants but they were just servants. Anders would have befriended them. There was less complaining, he wasn’t half as sarcastic as Anders had been and those were only the biggest differences he’d noticed. Despite them, despite the thirty-five year age gap, despite the danger discovery presented, Carver found his feelings and his desire for Grant had only grown. Hesitation would only torture both of them. He didn’t know if Grant had the same sort of feelings for him that he did for Grant but he would regret not finding out.

When night had finally fallen, Carver followed him to his room, staying in the hallway. Grant stood in the doorway, a journal held tightly in one hand, and smiled. “I’ll see you in a bit,” he said softly.

Carver returned his smile and nodded. Grant shut the door between them and he continued down the hall. He followed his nightly routine strictly. First he cared for his sword and hung it on the rack over his bed. He did a few simple exercises and stripped for a cold wash from the basin. Instead of putting on a comfortable pair of sleep pants he sat on his bed, still neatly made, naked and facing the door. A single lamp burned on the nearby nightstand.

Time seemed to drag on but eventually his door opened. Illumination from the hallway was fleeting as Grant stepped in quickly. The bolt was drawn and he turned, looking around the room curiously before his eyes locked on Carver. As Grant walked quickly across the room he pulled off the long nightshirt and dropped it to the floor. He wore nothing underneath and was already quite stiff. Carver rose to his knees as Grant crawled up onto the bed, his eyes darting from Carver’s mostly stiff cock to his face and back again. Grant rose to his knees as well and stopped just out of arm’s length.

“He cared for you,” said Grant softly. “I dreamed of the day he found out you joined the Templars. He was…heart broken. Then I dreamed of bits in between. Did you protect him?”

“I did,” Carver whispered.

“I don’t think he ever said…” Grant came slowly forward, his eyes locked on Carver’s. “But…he was grateful.”

“I never knew…”

“I’ll understand if you call out his name.”

Carver smiled in spite of the sudden turmoil his emotions had become. He pulled Grant to him; their bodies flush and wrapped his arms around Grant. “That chance passed long ago,” he whispered softly into his ear. “I know who I’m taking to my bed tonight Grant.”

Without giving him a chance to reply Carver gripped his arse cheeks and kissed the soft spot where shoulder met neck. Grant made that same little mewl he had earlier, head falling to the side and his hands sliding around Carver’s torso. He kneaded Grant’s arse while he kissed and sucked at his neck. Carver was careful not to bruise him however.

“On your back,” Carver said softly when Grant was panting.

Grant gazed up at him after he’d lay back, his head on Carver’s pillow. He was full of nervous excitement as Carver lifted his legs. Carver settled on his knees, Grant’s legs resting on his shoulders. He rubbed Grant’s thighs, one hand slowly sliding down to his arse.

“This is what you want?” Carver asked pressing against his entrance.

“Maker yes,” he replied quickly. “More than anything.”

“Slick,” said Carver holding out this hand. Grant complied quickly, holding a hand over his. “Now hold your legs and relax.”

Carver took a generous amount of grease from his palm and rubbed his entrance, pushing a single finger through the tight ring. He stroked his cock to spread the rest watching Grant closely. It wasn’t until he’d added a third finger that Grant grimaced slightly and clenched. Carver paused, wondering just how often he’d fucked himself with his fingers. When he’d relaxed again Carver continued thrusting with his fingers until his eyes were half closed and his breathing had deepened.

“Carver,” he whined quietly.

“All right. Here we go.”

Slowly he pushed his cock inside, stopping when their bodies were flush. Grant was panting heavily, his arms shaking and his eyes hooded. Carver paused and draped his legs over his thighs.

“More,” Grant gasped as Carver leaned over him.

With a steady rhythm Carver rocked. He leaned over further to capture his lips. What Grant lacked in experience he made up for in enthusiasm. The kisses were sloppy, his grip on Carver’s shoulders or arms too tight. Carver sped his thrusts steadily, ending up with a tight grip on the base of Grant’s cock to help keep him from peaking too quickly.

The steady stream of quiet moans and soft mewling from Grant mixed pleasantly with his own panting and the soft slap of flesh. It only took a few strokes to finish off Grant. His seed spurted over his abdomen and he groaned steadily as Carver chased his release. Grant smiled sleepily as Carver stuttered to a stop with a grunt.

Grant was mostly asleep as Carver carefully cleaned him off. After a moment of indecision he lay next to the boy, smiling as Grant rolled to his side into him. Carver lay awake for a while, holding him as he slept peacefully.


	11. Chapter 11

Almost three weeks had passed and during the day not much changed for Grant. He still spent as much time as he could at Graham’s clinic and Graham took him out of the city as much as he dared. On their first trip out after that night Graham had brought a blanket just like he said he would. Despite their chagrin at being encouraged, he and Carver had made use of it.

Life at the castle was fairly normal. Grant learned from his tutors while Carver stood or sat nearby. Knowing that he could sneak into Carver’s room at night helped him focus. It was hard to act like nothing was different however. He wanted to sit close and walk down the halls hand in hand but he kept his distance. Carver smiled at him a bit more often but was mostly just as grim and serious as he always had been.

Grant had continued to read through the journals Graham loaned him. His dreams had continued off and on and they seemed to be gradually getting further into the past. Instead of Kirkwall most of the dreams took place in Ferelden, a place called Vigil’s Keep and the arling of Amaranthine. In these dreams Anders seemed like a completely different person.

He was still full of compassion and anger but neither emotion was as visible as they had been in Kirkwall. Anders seemed aloof and uncaring. He hid behind a wall of humor and sarcasm. So far only the dark-haired rogue, Nathaniel Howe, and a tiny elven mage, the Warden Commander or Neria, had managed to break past that wall.

Unlike dreaming of his time in Kirkwall, which were either boring or very frightening, Anders seemed to do nothing in Amaranthine besides fight and have sex. His favorites seemed to be Howe and Neria but there were many random soldiers, the servants of the keep and even a few bar maids. These dreams left him hard and very aroused. Grant had woken Carver on more than one occasion after a racy dream.

Grant couldn’t help but wonder what had caused the dramatic shift in his personality. In Kirkwall the humor and sarcasm that had been ever present in Amaranthine took a back seat to the serious, angry person that not many had known. Graham and Carver hadn’t known him then so asking them seemed a little pointless. It was possible they knew why he’d changed and he was seriously considering asking them on the next trip out of Starkhaven.

At the moment all he wanted was for Carver to fuck him silly however. The dream he’d just woken from had included both of Anders’ favorite people from Vigil’s Keep plus an Antivan elf that Neria seemed to know. Grant was so stiff it was almost painful. His body tingled from remembered stimulation.

There was no one in the hallway when he peeked out cautiously. It was very late and he hadn’t expected anyone. The soldiers did patrols at night but there was more risk of being seen on his balcony than in the hall. He stayed close to the wall anyway and looked both directions before stepping into Carver’s room. The warrior was always waiting when these nightly visits were planned. The other times Grant had snuck in unannounced Carver was awake before his door was completely shut.

Carver was up on one elbow blinking at him in the gloom. “Grant?” he said softly. “It’s late.”

“I know,” Grant whispered as he hurried across the room. He swept his nightshirt off and dropped it to the floor before crawling onto the bed. “I’m sorry.” He straddled Carver’s legs and scooted as close as he could. “You wouldn’t believe what I was just dreaming of.”

He surprised Carver with a kiss, rolling his hips to find any sort of stimulation he could. Carver gripped his hips to stop the motion and sat up fully. “What’s gotten into you?” he asked arching an eyebrow.

“More like who hasn’t been in me,” Grant said desperately. “Anders was sort of a whore before he got to Kirkwall. I just dreamed of being in between two other Wardens. There was also an elf, root deep down my throat and I just…please Carver.”

“I knew he was a lot more experienced,” said Carver still holding him firmly. “But isn’t that exaggerating a bit?”

“I’ve had so many sex dreams lately,” Grant pouted. “Soldiers, Wardens, being sucked off by bar maids in store rooms. Please Carver. I want you.”

“That face is dangerous,” he muttered. “We’re talking to Garrett about these dreams tomorrow. I’m not sure I can keep up with you at this rate. I’m not as young as you are.”

“Please Carver,” Grant said running his fingers through his hair. “You’re better than some half remembered bloke I’ve never met. Pretty please.”

“Oh, stop with the pouting already,” Carver said irritably. His hands moved from Grant’s hips to his arse. “I’m convinced.”

Grant grinned excitedly and pulled him in for a kiss. Carver’s tongue plunged through his parted lips and for the next fifteen minutes or so nothing else mattered except him. His hands slid across Grant’s skin, pulling at his nipples, rolling his balls, squeezing his arse while his lips worked at Grant’s neck, along his jaw and across his collarbones. Grant did his best to return the pleasure he was being given but wasn’t sure how successful he was.

When Carver was ready Grant was beyond ready. He lay on his stomach gripping Carver’s wrists tightly while the stronger man plowed into him over and over. His moans were muffled by Carver’s pillow. Grant barely heard Carver’s soft panting grunts. He felt the pleasure of being filled, the large strong body over him, his cock trapped between the mattress and his body, balls slapping his arse with every powerful thrust.

How long this went on Grant didn’t know. It felt too short when Carver slammed into him one final time, thrusting erratically while he was still buried, emptying himself into Grant. His hips were pulled up slightly and Carver tugged his cock, moaning softly as Grant clenched around his sensitive member still buried inside when he peaked. Carver lowered him back down and Grant could only sigh contentedly as Carver pulled out and lay beside him. He turned his head to see Carver smiling and Grant returned it.

“Feel better?” Carver asked softly running a hand through his hair.

“Yes,” Grant replied sleepily. “Much better. I know I can’t sleep here but…can I stay? Just for a little bit.”

“A little while,” said Carver. “It’s later than usual and we can’t get caught like this.”

“I know,” he sighed.

Grant rolled onto his side wondering if he was going to feel sore in the morning. Carver scooted close behind him, his arm coming over his side to gently hold them together. They lay like that for a while, neither speaking but both wishing he didn’t have to go. Eventually Grant rose, turning for a kiss. He retrieved his nightshirt and pulled it on. He looked back wistfully before peeking out and making his way to his room.

*

Carver lay awake for some time staring at the door and dragging a finger through the spend Grant had left on his sheets. Since the first night he’d snuck in Grant returned every three days or so. He mostly knew when to expect the boy but the vivid wet dreams he’d been having lately brought him later and a bit more often. Keeping up with a sixteen year old libido was somewhat challenging anyway but it was a little more challenging now. Grant was eager and responsive and that was usually enough to get him interested. That he regularly ended up staying for a while afterwards gave him some hope that he wanted more than just sex.

He fell asleep thinking of the wishful look back and woke later to the muffled sounds of Grant wailing mournfully. Without thinking, still half asleep, Carver bolted out of his room and down the hall into Grant’s room. Grant was on his hands and knees halfway to his balcony doorway shaking his head and shouting the word ‘no’ at the top of his lungs. Carver pulled him upright and Grant’s gaze locked on his, haunted and sorrowful.

“What have I done to him?” Grant said shakily. “Dear Maker what have I done!”

“Calm down Grant,” Carver said evenly. “Let’s get you outside.”

“I changed him!” he exclaimed loudly. “Corrupted him! A pure beautiful spirit and I ruined him! My anger, my Maker cursed rage! Why Carver? Why did I do it?”

“You’re talking about Justice,” said Carver in astonishment. “I don’t know Grant. Anders didn’t talk to me.”

“Maker,” Grant whispered.

He threw his arms around Carver, halting their slow progress towards the balcony and nuzzled into Carver’s neck. Carver felt him trembling and returned his embrace, rubbing his back. Grant wasn’t very calm when Carver noticed someone standing in the doorway. Anne Vael stepped into her son’s room and calmly shut the door behind her. It was then Carver realized that he wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing.

Grant didn’t react to the soft sound and Carver did his best not to tense. He scowled defiantly at her, meeting her cool fury.

“Should I be concerned?” she asked evenly.

“Mother!” Grant exclaimed turning but not completely letting go of Carver.

“Cover yourself,” Anne ordered coldly. “And get out of Grant’s room.”

“No,” said Grant turning and clinging tighter. “Please don’t go! That dream was horrible…I need…” Grant shuddered as he fell silent.

“Calm down Grant,” Carver said quietly putting his arms back around him.

“What’s going on here?” Anne demanded.

“Grant has been dreaming of Anders’ life,” Carver said.

“That doesn’t explain your lack of clothing or the way you’re clinging to my son,” she said. “What have you been doing?”

“Nothing he hasn’t wanted me to,” Carver snapped. Her eyes widened and he could almost feel Garrett’s hand connecting with the back of his head. “Shit.”

“Please Mother,” Grant said softly. “Don’t tell Father.”

“Grant…” Anne said in horrified confusion.

“If you send him away I’ll only follow after him,” Grant interrupted. He finally let go and turned, careful to stay in front of Carver. “And I won’t let Father execute him.”

Anne stared at them for a long moment and her gaze softened a tiny bit. “Very well Grant. I wish to speak with you both separately however. If you will lend Serah Hawke a robe, I will be waiting in his room.”

She turned and left quietly shutting the door behind her. Grant sagged against him and Carver embraced him once more.

“I’m sorry,” Carver said softly.

“Better than catching us at it,” Grant said wryly.

Carver snorted and kissed his temple. “Are you all right?”

“Not really,” he sighed. “That dream…I want to see Graham as soon as we can.”

“If your mother doesn’t throw me out.”

“She won’t,” Grant said semi confidently. “Like I said, I’ll just run away. You can take me to Antiva like you offered before. Take the bed sheet. I don’t think I have a robe that will fit you.”

He wasn’t confident at all but Carver pulled the sheet from his bed and wrapped it around himself. Grant slumped to the bed and scrubbed his face. Carver squeezed his shoulder before turning towards the door, hoping he wasn’t going to dig himself further into the hole.


	12. Chapter 12

Anne was standing by the bed when Carver entered. It was situated against the wall to the left when entering. Her back was to the door but her posture was stiff. It reminded Carver of his own mother when she was furious with him. Instead of sulking or hanging his head in shame he leaned back against the door, tightening the sheet around his waist and tucking the end in. He crossed his arms over his chest and waited, staring at the bun her blonde hair was rolled into.

“How long?” she asked without turning.

“Three weeks,” Carver replied.

Her head tilted downward for a moment. “There are so many things I could call you,” Anne said as she turned. She was every bit as furious as he’d guessed.

“Go ahead,” he snorted. “I’ve been called worse.”

“Your job is to protect him,” she hissed through clenched teeth. “It wasn’t to seduce him.”

“I have protected him,” Carver said angrily. “And for the record, Grant approached me. I didn’t encourage him at all.”

“You didn’t discourage him either,” Anne said accusatorily.

“No I didn’t,” he said pushing away from the door. Carver walked across the room and stood in front of her. “If it was just about sex I would have encouraged him to find someone closer to his own age. But it’s not. When I was a young man I kept my feelings about someone special hidden and lost my chance forever. I won’t do it twice. I wanted him as much as he wanted me.”

She sighed heavily and stood straighter, meeting his gaze evenly. “As much as I’d like to throw you out of Starkhaven I will respect my son’s wishes. He has so very few reasons to smile.”

“He hasn’t had any reasons to smile,” Carver said quietly. “He’s been trapped here because Sebastian can’t see past his likeness to Anders. His siblings have everything and he has to fight for anything. Grant needs some happiness.”

“I will not pretend to like his choice,” Anne said. “But I will remain silent. I will be watching you Serah Hawke.”

“Fair enough,” he replied.

Carver stood to one side and watched Anne walk calmly to his door. When it was shut behind her he sunk to his bed and sighed, scrubbing his face with his hands.

“Don’t get caught he says,” Carver muttered irritably. “Bloody brilliant Carver.”

He sighed as he stood and walked to his wardrobe. Irritation at his own stupidity warred with worry over Grant as he readied himself for another day.

*

Grant still sat on his bed in his nightshirt when his mother knocked once and entered his room. Her conversation with Carver had been rather short and he wasn’t sure if he should be worried about it or not. She sat next to him after closing the door. He kept his gaze on the floor between his feet, a little embarrassed and still shaken from his dream.

“I’m at a loss Grant,” she said softly.

“I won’t stop,” he said defiantly. “If I have to run away I will.”

“He’s too old,” Anne said firmly. “It’s inappropriate.”

“So is Elle and her favorite soldier,” Grant said sullenly. “They don’t even try to hide and she hasn’t been in trouble for it.”

“You’re not in trouble.”

“Aren’t I?” he scoffed. Grant looked over at her and found a small frown. “I’ve been having sex with my bodyguard. Of course I’m in trouble. I dared for a moment to be normal and go for something I wanted instead of having everything dictated to me.”

“Why him?” she asked her frown deepening. “Why not someone closer to your own age? Someone from Starkhaven.”

“Because he’s not frightened of Father. He stood up for me. He talks to me like I’m a person not the mysterious and forbidden son of the Prince. He _cares_ for me Mother. Me. Grant Vael.”

“He’s a drifter. The only reason I didn’t protest him becoming your protector is because Sebastian knew him. He doesn’t know you Grant. When he’s satisfied he’ll move on and leave you behind.”

“You’ve got it backwards. Carver’s worried about not keeping _me_ satisfied.” Grant stood, took a few steps away and turned. “Please understand Mother.”

“I’m sorry Grant,” Anne said gently. “I don’t understand and definitely don’t approve. He’s too old. I don’t trust his motives and I think you’re going to end up with a broken heart.”

Grant wasn’t sure if he were more frustrated or hurt. “You don’t trust me.”

“I do trust you,” said Anne standing. “Your father has kept you isolated and it’s made you vulnerable. I won’t tell Sebastian but I will be watching you both. I love you Grant.”

Anne pulled him into hug and Grant sighed as he returned it. When she left he flopped onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. He was glad that she wasn’t going to do anything but it hurt more than he thought possible that she didn’t trust him. His mother knew he’d been sneaking out regularly and she still thought him naive. Grant scowled at the ceiling and clenched his hands into fists.

While it was true that there was a lot he didn’t know about the world he didn’t think he was as vulnerable as his mother assumed. Graham had taught him many ways mages were caught and how normal citizens of Thedas reacted to mages. There were a lot of things he had to pay attention to in order to stay hidden. It didn’t occur to him as he lay there fuming that Anne didn’t know he was a mage and couldn’t have known how inexperienced he wasn’t.

He knew Carver would take him to one of the mage strongholds if he asked but despite this morning’s incident Grant still didn’t really want to leave. Graham would likely stay here and as long as he kept having dreams about Anders’ life he wanted to stay close to him. Carver had admitted more than once that Anders hadn’t confided in him the way he had Graham.

There had to be a way to express his irritation. Grant smiled as a thought occurred to him. He jumped up and hurried over to his wardrobe. One of his tighter pair of trousers went directly on without putting on small clothes first. His nightshirt was dropped into the dirty bin and he pulled on one of his plain shirts. Grant pulled on a pair of socks and tied his boots. Carver was waiting across the hallway when Grant left his room. He arched an eyebrow at Grant’s attire.

“Are we leaving?” Carver asked quietly.

“Only if Graham will come too,” Grant said. “The dreams…”

“I don’t know,” said Carver. “He seems to like it here.”

“Let’s go,” said Grant starting off down the hallway. “We’ll talk on the way there.”

Carver followed him without speaking. By now the soldiers were used to him coming and going but they still seemed to take note. They were well into the city before Carver broke the silence between them.

“You’re chat with mum not go well?”

“She thinks you’re using me,” Grant said bitterly. “That I’m nothing more than a conquest and you’ll leave when you get tired of me.”

“You’re not a conquest,” Carver said irritably.

“I know,” said Grant shooting him a smile over his shoulder. “I told her you cared but she thinks I’m just love struck. That I’m _vulnerable_ because Father hid me for sixteen years. There’s a lot I don’t know but I’m not all that stupid.”

“Take it easy Grant,” Carver said stepping up beside him. “It seems you’ve got his temper too.”

Grant stopped in his tracks, suddenly more frightened than angry. The nightmare he’d woken from this morning came flooding back. It had been Anders’ anger that warped the spirit Justice. Carver stopped a pace ahead of him and looked back.

“I can’t help it,” Grant said looking up at him. “Mother has been the only reason I’ve gotten anything but she doesn’t trust me to know what I feel, to know that I’m right. I _am_ angry. He was always angry. I…”

“Shh,” Carver said gripping his shoulder. “You have a right to be angry. He had a right to be angry.”

“Isn’t anger bad?”

“You’re thinking of unfocused rage. It depends on what you do with your anger. Lashing out at anyone and everything like I did as a young man isn’t a good way to deal with it. Focus your anger. Temper it with knowledge and reason.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

Carver frowned deep in thought for a moment. “Tell me why you’re dressed like that. We won’t be out of the city for a couple of more days so why did you dress for it?”

“Because I’m expected to wear the fancy things,” Grant replied immediately. “I’m very tired of always doing what’s expected of me and besides, I sort of like the simple look.”

“Would you be wearing that shirt right now if your mother hadn’t made you mad?”

“Probably not,” Grant said after a moment. “I think I see what you’re getting at. What about him though? It was his anger that changed…his friend.”

“You’re better off asking Graham about that,” Carver said. “He knows a lot more about…his friend than I ever did.”

Grant nodded and smiled. “Thank you. I don’t feel quite so bad about being angry with my mother.”

Carver smiled back and said, “Come on.”


	13. Chapter 13

They were all seated around the table in Graham’s house. Grant had glossed over the sex dreams and focused on the dream that had woken him. It had begun innocently, Anders and the armored corpse the spirit Justice had inhabited walking quickly through the woods. Anders was nervous but determined. They stopped after a short while and stood facing each other. That’s when his dream became confusing.

Justice was transferred from the corpse to Anders in a blazing flash of blue light. Wardens and Templars filled the clearing, weapons drawn. Inside of himself, Anders seemed to be pushed back. He wanted to flee but the spirit laughed and turned towards the closest person. A sword appeared through his chest. Anders should have been dead but he proceeded to tear his attackers apart.

Grant woke screaming, some of the other frightening dreams suddenly making more sense. Completely panicked he’d tried to get to his balcony, falling to his knees partway there when he realized what had happened to the spirit. Anders’ anger had been too much for Justice to handle. Neither of them had expected the outcome, Justice morphing into Vengeance.

“I was shouting,” Grant said staring at the table. “Then Carver was there.”

“I was trying to get him to the balcony,” Carver said. “But we didn’t make it before his mother came in.”

“Why do you look like you just got caught putting frogs in Bethany’s clothes chest?” Graham asked frowning, his brows pulled down.

“Because I ended up admitting that I’ve been sleeping with Grant.”

“Maker’s Breath Carver,” Graham said in exasperation. He pushed away from the table and smacked the back of Carver’s head on his way to the tea kettle. “Better Anne than Sebastian I suppose but still, very stupid.”

“I knew he was going to do that,” Carver muttered sullenly.

“She promised not to tell Father,” Grant said shifting uncomfortably in his chair. “Mother said she’d be watching us though.”

“You could just leave Starkhaven,” Graham said bringing the kettle to the table. “Carver could take you to one of the strongholds and you wouldn’t have to hide your relationship at all.”

“I thought of that,” said Grant. “Would you consider coming with?”

“I really shouldn’t,” said Graham evenly as he filled the three teacups he’d dug out earlier.

“Brother, if Sebastian realizes who you are he’ll have you executed,” Carver said sternly leaning forward.

“And if Sebastian discovers you’re having sex with his son you’ll be just as dead,” Graham replied. “I know you aren’t going to be leaving without Grant and he doesn’t seem to want to go.”

Carver scowled at his brother and asked, “Why hasn’t he recognized you?”

“Sebastian thinks Garrett Hawke is dead,” Graham said sitting down. He sipped at his tea and set the cup carefully down on the table. “He caught up to me eleven years ago.”

“Caught up,” said Grant frowning. “What do you mean?”

“Have you dreamed of the last day we spent in Kirkwall?” Graham asked. Grant shook his head and he sighed. “After the Chantry was destroyed, Sebastian demanded that I kill Anders. I didn’t do it of course and he left to reclaim the throne of Starkhaven. Before he stormed off, Sebastian swore to find both Anders and I…show us the true meaning of justice.”

Grant took a moment to think of what he’d just been told. “It was Father,” he said slowly.

The nightmares of Anders’ death flashed through his mind, the voice he could almost recognize. The pain through his chest had been an arrow. He felt it yanked out and winced as he put a hand over his heart. Hands roughly turned him over and he saw Sebastian, eyes burning in rage, mouth contorted into a furious sneer. Anders closed his eyes when he saw the knife. He heard his father clearly, may the Maker forgive you, and felt the slash across his throat. Grant gasped and clutched at this throat, feeling Anders’ despair and relief in equal measure.

“It was Father!” Grant exclaimed. His own horror and anger drowned out Anders’ feelings and he shot to his feet. “He _knows_ Anders is dead and he claimed it was for my own good! Because no one knows what happened to him but _he_ knew all along.”

“Grant!” Carver yelled shaking him.

“No!” he shouted furiously. “I’m sick of the excuses to keep me hidden! He can’t stand me! I’ve never done anything to warrant the way he treats me!”

“Calm down Grant,” Carver ordered giving him another shake.

Grant struggled to free himself, wanting only to confront his father, when everything went black.

*

Carver wrapped his arms around him as his eyes rolled back. Grant slumped in his arms and he silenced the boy as he carefully guided him to the floor.

“Just had to have his talent with fire too,” Garrett said irritably as he poured the contents of the kettle on the smoldering table. “Did you silence him?”

“Yes. What did you do?”

“Just a sleep spell. He should be out for an hour or so. Take him back to the bed.”

He worked his arms underneath his shoulders and knees then lifted Grant, his head falling back over Carver’s arm. His face was slack but his chest rose and fell with even regularity. Careful not to bump his legs, Carver took him into the back room and laid him gently down on Garrett’s bed. He straightened Grant’s legs and stood over him. Grant seemed peaceful at the moment but he knew that would be gone the second he woke. Now extremely irritated he turned and strode to the doorway.

“Was that really wise?” Carver asked glaring at Garrett as he attempted to mop up the tea.

“He would have figured it out eventually,” Garrett sighed. “Better here where we can deal with his inevitable magical outburst.”

“He was already mad at his mum and now he’s furious with Sebastian too. I really don’t see how this is going to help anything. Especially after that dream about Justice.”

“I don’t know Carver. I’ve been cursed with shitty timing my whole life. Why should this be any different? We need to make sure Grant doesn’t do anything stupid.”

“Like telling Sebastian off for being a hypocritical jerk?” Carver snorted. “Does he even know about the dreams? His mother didn’t seem too surprised.”

“Anne was probably too busy being furious with you to pay attention to why you were in Grant’s room to begin with. I doubt Sebastian knows about the dreams. Either he doesn’t pay attention or Grant is really good at keeping things from him.”

“There are so many ways this could go bad. Leaving is sounding like a great idea.”

Garrett straightened and dropped the rag he had in a nearby bucket. He turned to Carver, frowning deeply. “That would be the simplest solution. I’m not entirely sure it’s the best one though. I don’t think Sebastian is going to just let Grant run away. Then you’ll have Sebastian trailing behind wherever you go.” He grimaced after a short pause and continued in a dismayed tone. “Grant might have to watch you die or you’ll end up with a bunch of nasty scars like I did.”

“Sebastian gave you that scar didn’t he,” Carver said suddenly sure of it. “Eleven years ago.”

“He did.” Garrett turned his chair slightly and sank onto it wearily. “I was in Ferelden. I really don’t know how he found out. Sebastian baited me with a letter, claiming to be a mage wanting to get to the stronghold.”

“Helpful you fell for it.”

“I went to the meeting spot, a barn at a nearby abandoned farm. I had no more stepped through the door when my chest sprouted several arrows and one really bad shot skated along my jaw. It was pure luck none of them hit my heart. It was hard to breathe though. Sebastian just left me there after a brief look. Told me he hoped the Maker would forgive me and walked off. I really should be dead. Managed to pull some of the arrows out and nearly choked on the potions before I passed out.”

“It’s still dangerous here,” Carver said firmly.

“Better here where he believes me dead than anywhere else,” Garrett said staring at the floor and rubbing the scar on his jaw. “People believe I’m still alive and I might be recognized. I’m tired of the killing Carver.”

“What a mess,” Carver grumbled. “I guess we’re all on thin ice now. Will you come with us if something goes horribly wrong?”

“Yes,” said Garrett looking up. “I really don’t want to die.”

Carver nodded and turned back to the bedroom after a moment. He crossed to the bed wondering how he could help. Grant had rolled to his side and Carver sat near him, leaning back against the headboard. There was nothing to do but wait until he woke.


	14. Chapter 14

Grant moaned softly and sat up.

“Grant?” Carver asked.

“What happened?” Grant said as he rubbed his eyes and looked around.

“Garrett put you to sleep,” said Carver calmly. “You lost control and tried setting the table on fire.”

He was on Graham’s bed, Carver sitting next to him. The morning came flooding back and he sighed. Grant scooted down a little and lay back down, resting his head on Carver’s thigh. The warrior said nothing, simply rested his hand on Grant’s shoulder.

“Is he awake yet?” Graham asked from the doorway.

“Yes,” Grant said sullenly. “And I’m rather angry with you.”

“I’m sorry I put you to sleep but I didn’t want you to burn down my home,” he said evenly.

“It’s not that,” Grant said sitting up again. “You knew who killed me the moment I told you about that dream. Why didn’t you say anything then?”

“I did know,” Graham replied. He leaned in the doorway and met Grant’s accusatory glare with irritating calmness. “Figured out what the dreams are then?”

“Memories,” said Grant continuing to glare. “And why didn’t you tell me that either?”

“You were frightened enough. If I had told you that I suspected you and Anders have the same soul you would have broken down completely.”

Grant’s glare turned to a scowl. Graham was right of course. The journals had given him insight that he wouldn’t otherwise have had. He huffed and turned away from both of them. “So what am I supposed to do?”

“What do you want to do?” Carver said.

“Yell and scream,” Grant said sullenly. “Demand answers I know I’m not going to get.”

“That never worked very well,” said Carver. “Mostly just got me in trouble.”

“I don’t really want to go back,” Grant said. “I’ve tried so hard…I just wanted him to like me. He’ll never see _me…_ ”

“Once more I find myself defending Sebastian,” Graham sighed. “If he didn’t care about you Grant, why did he hire Carver at your request?”

“He told me that I wouldn’t have been his first choice,” Carver added reluctantly. “The only reason he asked me is because you wanted me as your bodyguard.”

Grant sighed heavily and stared at the bedspread beneath him. Knowing that his father had killed Anders only made him furious. His father had lied to him, made excuses to keep him hidden away and was overly strict. It was hard to believe that Sebastian felt anything for him but shame and contempt. He couldn’t ignore the simple fact that he had hired Carver at his request however. Could it really have been concern that caused the harsh unfairness that he’d endured? Grant wasn’t sure what to believe.

“I should get to the clinic,” Graham said. “Stay as long as you need to.”

“Graham,” Grant said looking up at him.

“Yes?” he said turning around.

“Why do I have such a hard time controlling my magic when I’m angry?”

“You’re very far behind,” Graham replied. “My father spent many hours with my sister and I every single day. Sebastian has made that impossible. I’m sure manifesting late hasn’t helped much either.”

Grant nodded and turned his gaze back to the bedspread.

“Stay here as long as you need to,” Graham repeated. “Get yourself together. Put your blanket down first if you feel the need to use the bed.”

“Garrett!” Carver growled.

He looked up in time to see Graham batting away the pillow Carver had thrown at him. Graham smirked as he disappeared through the doorway. Carver huffed and scooted closer to him and they heard the front door moments later. Grant sighed and leaned against him.

“What do you think I should do?” Grant asked softly.

“Do you want to leave or stay here?” Carver replied.

“If we leave he’ll send someone after us,” said Grant. “I’m sure of it.”

“Make a demand. See if he’s actually willing to work with you.”

Grant flopped backwards and stared at the ceiling. “I’m amazed he hired you to be my bodyguard. Anything else and he’ll just frown and shake his head.”

Carver’s weight disappeared and Grant rose up on his elbows. He picked up the pillow he’d thrown and came back to the bed. “Let’s just lay here for a bit,” he said putting the pillow at the head of the bed. “Calm down, clear our minds…”

“Cuddle?” Grant interrupted hopefully.

“And cuddle,” Carver said his cheeks turning the slightest bit red.

“Don’t worry,” Grant said smiling. “If we ever get to a point when we don’t have to hide I won’t tell anyone you like snuggling with me.”

He smiled sheepishly and settled on his back. Grant squirmed around until his head rested on Carver’s chest, his groin pressed to Carver’s thigh and one leg thrown over resting in between his. With strong arms around him, Grant idly drew patterns on his chest while he thought.

Grant still wanted to march up to his father and demand answers. Now that he wasn’t completely furious Grant thought this about as wise as telling him that he was having his first illicit relationship with his bodyguard. There was no way to tell Sebastian that he knew he’d killed Anders without having to explain the dreams which he was extremely reluctant to do. Not only might it out him as a mage but it might put Graham in danger as well.

Running away with Carver was an option but he was reluctant to leave. He was positive his father would send someone after them or follow himself. The situation could not remain as it was however. Grant would likely lose his temper at some point and blurt out something he didn’t really want Sebastian to know.

There were too many things he needed to hide. As long as they remained careful Sebastian probably wouldn’t figure out that he wasn’t a virgin. His mother had promised to remain silent. The dreams wouldn’t be too problematic as long as he didn’t give away information he shouldn’t have. His biggest problem at the moment was his inability to control his magic when he was angry. This morning’s second incident could have ended a lot worse had he not been with Graham and Carver. He thought of Carver’s suggestion and smiled as a possible solution crossed his mind.

“Carver,” Grant said sitting up. “I think I know what demand I’m going to make.” Grant straddled his hips and leaned forward resting his hands on the pillow to either side of his head. Carver’s hands settled on his hips. “I’ll tell him I want to study under Graham fully.”

“That’s reasonable,” Carver said. “I doubt he’ll like it.”

“Not if he still wants me to become an initiate,” said Grant. “I don’t really care if he likes it or not. I _need_ more time with Graham and I want to be a healer as well.”

“It’s worth a try,” he said. “If he won’t budge then we may have to leave Starkhaven. You really do need to get a handle on your magic.”

“If Father doesn’t relent we’ll go to Antiva. I don’t want to endanger anyone.”

“All right. Do you want to go talk to him now?”

“I want to go shopping first,” Grant said grinning. “To buy clothing I want to wear.”

“Can we get something to eat too? We missed breakfast.”

“Yes, I’m sort of hungry too.”

“Only sort of? At your age missing a meal was a terrible ordeal.”

“Well,” Grant said leaning down. “Food isn’t the only thing I’m hungry for.”

“Again?” said Carver incredulously. “You’re as bad as Garrett was.”

“We have to jump on every chance we can,” Grant said rolling his hips. “He did say we can use the bed.”

“You just want to because Sebastian doesn’t want you to,” Carver said.

“Absolutely,” said Grant grinning. “Would it help if I told you I’m not wearing any small clothes?”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “It would.” Carver smiled before closing the distance between their lips. It was brief and far too chaste but Carver pushed him away gently. “We need to put the blanket down. If we leave a mess on his bed we’ll never hear the end of it.”


	15. Chapter 15

Sebastian sat at his desk looking over a list. Douglas had just informed him that the girl he’d been dating had agreed to marry. Julia was a common girl, daughter to one of the largest innkeepers in Starkhaven. Having married a common woman himself, her status didn’t bother him in the least. He had encouraged both Douglas and Elle to find someone they truly loved. Some of the nobility would not like his choice however.

Anne had not been accepted immediately either. Their first few years in Starkhaven had been rough. Gradually she had worked her way into the hearts of the people and the nobility had reluctantly relented. Sebastian was sure they would come around with Julia as well. Seating arrangements for the announcement ball would have been tricky anyway but he wanted to make sure dissenters didn’t have a chance at the ball to put their heads together.

He put the list of names down next to a diagram of the grand ballroom and picked up his quill. There was a knock on the door and he paused before dipping it into the inkwell. “Come in.”

Grant strode into his office with a determined look. Carver followed stoically behind, his frown deepening a bit as it always did when they caught each other’s eye. The first thing Sebastian noticed was his clothing. He frowned and sat back in his chair setting the quill on the desk.

“You have been out of the city,” Sebastian stated.

“I have _not_ been out of the city Father,” Grant said with strained politeness. “I like these clothes and I’ll be wearing things like them from now on.”

“Grant, you have an image…” he began sternly.

“The only image I have is the one you’ve given me,” Grant interrupted heatedly. Carver gripped his shoulder for a moment and Grant took a deep breath. He was slightly calmer when he continued. “I want to study with Graham all the time.”

Sebastian hadn’t liked the idea of Grant being an apprentice to the healer in the first place. Anne had convinced him to allow it. He hadn’t expected a phase to last four years however. “Absolutely not.”

“Why?” Carver asked angrily as Grant silently fumed. ”Because Anders was a healer? How many times did he save your life? How many times did he heal Fenris without so much as a thank you? He spent seven years in Darktown healing refugees that your precious Chantry turned away because they had no coin.”

“We are not discussing Anders,” Sebastian said through clenched teeth. He met and matched Carver’s glare with one of his own.

“Why not then?” said Grant furiously as he stepped forward between them.

His arms were crossed over his chest with his hands jammed into his armpits. This odd habit had appeared over the last few years and it never failed to make Sebastian wonder. He paid little attention to it now however. Before he could begin to answer Grant continued.

“It’s bad enough that I look like him isn’t it. Healing people like he did would be too much. I might go mad and start destroying things! I hate you!”

Grant turned on his heel and ran out. Carver sneered at him before following quickly. Sebastian sat there stunned for a moment before hurrying after. The servants he passed directed him down hallways until he knew where his son was headed. Slightly out of breath he stopped in front of Grant’s bedroom, Carver blocking the doorway.

“Move,” Sebastian ordered.

“I think you just missed your last chance,” Carver said turning and stepping into the room.

Sebastian brushed past him to find Grant stuffing things into a pack. “Grant…”

“You can’t stand me,” he said without looking up. “I get it. I’ll just get out of your life and you can forget I exist.”

“No,” said Sebastian stepping forward. “That is not what I want.”

“I won’t stay locked up here any longer,” Grant said fiercely. “You’ve never cared about me. Just kept me hidden and gave me twice the rules.”

“That’s not true. One fanatic on either side. They will take you or kill you and we will never see you again. Studying to become a healer will only add to the illusion that Anders is alive. I know I’ve been hard on you but you are in more danger than either of your siblings. I have lost so much family…I don’t want to lose you too.”

“If you don’t let up you’re going to lose him anyway,” said Carver calmly from his station near the door. “He isn’t a clueless child anymore. If there’s a risk it’s his to take.”

“Please Father,” Grant pleaded. “It’s an honorable profession. It won’t sully our name. I only want to help people.”

“You are set on this?” Sebastian said disheartened.

“Yes,” said Grant.

Sebastian could only see stubborn determination. Grant was fully prepared to run away if he didn’t relent. It was far better for him to stay in Starkhaven where there were soldiers to protect him. “Very well,” he sighed softly. “I still require notification if Graham wishes to take you out of the city.”

Grant nodded and said, “Thank you.”

He gripped Grant’s shoulder but couldn’t make himself smile. Sebastian turned and met Carver’s gaze. Carver was still frowning but his expression had softened a bit. He wondered how much he’d told Grant of the past. Sebastian’s frown deepened and he left Grant’s room without another word spoken.

_A Few Days Later_

Sebastian gripped the balcony railing overlooking the ballroom. He had originally come in to see the decoration progress for the announcement ball. Spotting Carver and Grant below him had redirected his attention quickly. They stood in the middle of the dance floor out of the way of the servants setting up and decorating tables at one end of the large room. Grant’s attention was focused on the musicians at the other end of the room. Carver stood behind and a little off to the side, watching the activity around him. It was their proximity that had diverted his attention. Grant didn’t seem at all bothered by Carver’s hulking presence a hand span or two away. Carver took his duty seriously and he was rarely seen without Grant. Sebastian hadn’t ever seen them this close together however. His thoughts turned back to his office. The grip to Grant’s shoulder was a silent admonishment to calm himself.

He frowned as he watched Grant turn, his excitement clear even from Sebastian’s high perch. What his son said couldn’t be heard over the music and the noise from the other end of the room. Carver shook his head and stepped back, his hands held out in front of him. After a brief conversation Carver nodded reluctantly. Grant smiled broadly and took one of Carver’s hands and placed it on his shoulder. They clasped their hands together and Grant’s other went to Carver’s hip.

Carver watched their feet as Grant slowly led him through the dance steps. This went on for at least ten minutes. There were some stumbles but their dance was fairly smooth before their hand positions were reversed. Carver led for the duration of the next song. Sebastian watched his frown deepening as Grant’s smile widened further.

“There you are Sebastian,” Anne said stepping up to the railing. “Lady…”

“Anne,” he interrupted quietly. “Look.” Sebastian gestured down and her gaze followed. “How long have they been so…familiar with each other?”

“I’m not sure,” said Anne after a moment. “Grant looks very happy. Even Carver is smiling a bit.”

Sebastian straightened and turned to his wife. She was smiling as she watched them. “It is not necessary for Carver to indulge him so.”

“Oh Sebastian,” Anne sighed. “Carver is a constant companion. It’s better if they like one another. Surely a few indulgences are harmless.”

He grunted noncommittally and turned back to the balcony railing, frowning as he watched Carver lead Grant through another dance. After a moment Anne took his hand. “Come Sebastian,” she said. “You are needed in the conference room.”

Sebastian nodded and allowed Anne to pull him away. There was something about what he’d witnessed that bothered him. He would have to think on it later.


	16. Chapter 16

Carver leaned against the wall in the basement of Garrett’s clinic with his pants and small clothes pulled half-way down his thighs, eyes mostly shut. Grant knelt in front of him, hands on his hips, his lips stretched around his cock. It wasn’t hard to resist the urge to begin thrusting. The boy didn’t have any experience sucking dick and couldn’t take all of him yet.

That didn’t stop Grant from trying however. Carver kept his hands on the sides of his head, ready to pull him off, but let him control for the most part. He didn’t mind the occasional scrape of Grant’s teeth as he took in as much as he could. His tongue moved restlessly along the shaft as he came back up. He’d been sucked off by people with a lot more skill but this felt better simply because he knew Grant wanted it. Carver sighed happily and watched him bob on his cock.

One of Grant’s hands disappeared and he whined, tugged at his trousers and looked up at him. He pulled at the laces pausing with the head of Carver’s cock just inside his mouth, panting slightly. When his stiff length was mostly free Grant continued. Carver watched his cock slide in and back out, loving every lick and attempt to take him further. Grant had gotten him off like this before but Carver decided suddenly that he wanted his arse. Grant looked up at him and pouted when Carver gently pulled him off.

“Stand up,” Carver ordered.

Grant obeyed, still pouting. “Carver.”

He pulled their bodies flush slipping his hands down the back of Grant’s trousers. Carver gripped his arse cheeks and leaned slightly to capture his lips. Grant hummed happily, his lips opening to accept his tongue. Their kisses were much less sloppy, Grant eager but letting Carver lead him. They were panting when he broke away, pulling Grant’s lower lip out with his teeth.

“I want your ass,” Carver whispered as he kissed Grant’s neck.

“All yours,” he said breathlessly gripping his arms.

Carver spent a moment kissing and sucking his neck, wishing he didn’t have to be so careful. He’d love to mark his neck and he thought Grant would thoroughly enjoy it but the risk of someone seeing it was just not worth it. He pushed Grant’s trousers down as far as he could, still working on the boy’s neck.

Grant was pliant as Carver turned him and reversed their positions. He held out a hand, the other settling on Grant’s hip. Grease appeared when Grant covered his hand briefly. Carver stroked himself, pulling lightly on Grant’s hip. His arse was stuck out, back arched with his palms flat on the wall. Carver rubbed around his entrance, pushing a finger in briefly. As many times as they had done this it was a happy discovery that Grant didn’t mind not being stretched out first.

He lined his cock up and pushed in slowly. Grant moaned softly. Carver stopped when they were flush and wrapped his arms around Grant’s chest. After a moment Carver began rolling his hips. His tight hole felt wonderful. The soft eager noises he made were beautiful. Carver hugged him tightly and kissed the shell of his ear.

“I love your ass,” Carver said earnestly. “I love your mouth. I love every breathless noise I pull out of you. I love you Grant.”

Carver kissed his ear again and moved his hands to Grant’s hips and began pounding into him. Grant’s noises increased in volume slightly, a breathless moan escaping every time they were flush. Tension built steadily and he began thrusting faster.

“Carver…,” Grant managed. “Please…so close…”

He wrapped his arms back around Grant’s chest and pulled him upright, still rolling his hips as fast as he could. “I’ve got you,” he whispered.

Grant fisted his cock rapidly. His whole body went rigid as he peaked, muscles clenching around Carver’s cock deliciously. Grant went limp and he supported them both easily as he chased his own release, listening to Grant’s panting groans. Carver held them together as he shot seed deep inside of him, slowly lowering him to the floor after he pulled out. Grant ended up sitting in his lap breathing heavily and completely relaxed against him.

“Did you mean it?” Grant asked after their breathing had evened out again.

“Yes,” Carver said softly. He rested his chin on Grant’s shoulder and squeezed him slightly. “I’m not ashamed to admit it.”

“Good,” said Grant happily. There was a soft kiss to his cheek and Grant let one of his arms rest on top of Carver’s, the other stroking his cheek lightly. “I love you too.”

As happy as hearing that made him, it also saddened him. “You know we’re doomed. If I make it through your parents…I’ll leave you alone eventually.”

“Don’t say that,” Grant said softly.

“Grant I’m fifty-one. I’ll…”

“Shush.” Grant caressed his cheek again and continued. “I know Carver. They can’t take you away from me like they did Karl. I want to enjoy every moment.”

Carver smiled even though it was still odd hearing him speak of Anders’ memories like they were his own. He kissed Grant’s cheek and felt his fingers brushing against his. They sat quietly for another few minutes, each enjoying what couldn’t be shown anywhere else.

“Come on,” Carver sighed. “We still have to get ready for that stupid ball.”

“If I had a choice I’d lock us away somewhere and you could fuck me all night,” Grant said struggling to his feet. “Graham’s been teaching me this neat spell that’ll help you out a lot.”

“Maker,” Carver grumbled.

Grant was grinning as he turned and offered Carver his hand. Carver shook his head, unable to help his own small smile as he accepted. He was pulled to his feet and Grant placed a chaste kiss on his lips. Carver pulled him close and brought their lips together again. He slipped his tongue through and met Grant’s as he hummed contentedly. For long moments their tongues slid together, Grant’s fingers in his hair. Carver wrapped an arm around his waist and the other drifted to his bare arse.

“As much as you complain…” Grant said in amusement when Carver finally pulled away.

“It’s not easy keeping up with your needs,” Carver said turning for a rag that had been set nearby beforehand. “It’s the most pleasant problem I’ve ever had though. Bend over a little. Let me clean you up.”

He chuckled as he turned and bent at the waist, hands gripping his knees. Carver was thorough as he wiped the grease from between his cheeks. Neither of them wanted awkward questions about stains on his trousers. While Grant righted his clothing he cleaned his cock with the rag and threw it at a nearby bucket. Garrett had been more than happy to offer them the use of the clinic’s basement since they were there nearly every day now.

“You know Grant,” Carver said as he pulled up his small clothes. “We can do this the other way around.”

“I’ve thought about asking,” Grant said. “I do want to know what it feels like to be inside but…” His cheeks colored and his gaze drifted to his boots as he scuffed the stone floor. “I just…really like it this way.”

“Don’t be embarrassed because you prefer bottoming,” said Carver lifting his chin. “I actually prefer being the top. I just wanted you to know that I’m willing to reverse it.”

“Maybe someday,” said Grant smiling. “Your ass is amazing too.”

“Thanks.” Carver leaned over and kissed him before pulling up his trousers.

“We should get going,” Grant said still smiling. “We’ll need to change.”

“Don’t remind me,” Carver muttered.

“You look fine,” he said reassuringly. “Come on.”

Carver grabbed his sword and followed Grant to the stairs. He wasn’t looking forward to a fancy nobleman’s party. Garrett had enthusiastically warned him with stories of parties he’d endured in Kirkwall. What had him worried however was that he would be unarmed. If the soldiers did their jobs right everyone else would be as well but it still bothered him. He would just have to be watchful.


	17. Chapter 17

Carver felt like a fool. Dress armor would have been preferable over the silly clothing he’d been forced into. The pants were entirely too tight but at least the shirt hung down to the middle of his thighs. Thankfully there were no ruffles or puffy bits on the shirt but the striped colors made up for it. He didn’t like the sash that had been tied around his waist either.

He had been following Grant around the ball room for the better part of an hour now. Grant was wearing his typical noble attire and Carver found, after having gotten used to seeing him in rather tight trousers and simple tunics, that he hated it more than he had before. Dinner had been uncomfortable and having to watch Grant dance with a few of the guest’s daughters had him in an extremely sour mood. So far this had been every bit as horrendous as Garrett had claimed it would be.

The only good thing about the whole evening was that aside from a couple of people that they shared a table with during dinner no one had spoken to him. Carver didn’t particularly care if it had been his growly responses, his Fereldan accent or the glare that had taken up residence on his face. Like he was on the streets of Starkhaven, Grant was polite to the people that spoke to him. More of the nobles seemed interested in him than the regular citizens were.

Bits of conversation could be heard during a lull in the music and he followed Grant to the back of the room where the tables were still set up. Grant sighed as he slumped into a chair. “As grumpy as you look I thought you’d be scaring more of them away.”

“Can we leave yet,” Carver grumbled.

“Soon I hope,” Grant replied without looking back at him. “I hate these things. This is better than being stuck with my parents though.”

“Stuck with your parents?”

“Sure,” said Grant turning in the chair slightly. “Father made sure I knew the etiquette but he didn’t want me out of his sight.”

Carver glanced around but didn’t see either Sebastian or Anne. A high pitched scream cut off the hum of conversation. He looked around quickly and saw one of the balconies with the railing hanging off. Grant was already on his feet and trying to push through the crowd. Carver caught up in a couple of quick strides.

“Stay close,” Carver said as he pushed past Grant. “Move! Out of the way!”

His voice rang throughout the room, carrying over a sudden burst of whispers. More voices could be heard as he shoved his way through the crowd clearing a path for Grant. They broke through the knot of people into a little clear spot surrounding the young lady that had fallen. He recognized her as one of the girls Grant had danced with.

Grant didn’t hesitate to kneel beside her, ignoring the man at her other side. She lay spread out on her back, unconscious and breathing shallowly. He closed his eyes and his hands glowed. The gasp of the gathered crowd was almost audible. The man kneeling across from Grant stood quickly and backed away. Carver clenched his hands into fists and turned a slow circle, making sure he met every eye on the way.

“Straighten her legs,” Grant ordered absently.

Carver quickly knelt beside her and pulled her legs together. He noticed that Grant had moved her arms to rest at her sides. Standing up again he tried to watch everyone at once. The crowd parted and Sebastian entered the clear spot Grant had created with Anne at his heels. His eyes grew wide as he watched his son. Anne pressed a hand to her stomach and gripped Sebastian’s shoulder with the other.

“It’s not enough,” Grant whimpered quietly. “Please…”

He thought Grant was unaware of the audience he had. Sebastian’s gaze finally met his and Carver stared back. The girl’s groan diverted their attention. Grant was wavering slightly but he wore a pleased smile.

“Is she all right Grant?” Anne asked stepping up beside Sebastian.

“Lydia is fine,” he said pushing slowly to his feet. “Um…Carver…”

Carver steadied him and said authoritatively, “It’s time to go Grant.”

“Yes…I don’t feel very well,” Grant said leaning heavily on his arm.

“Take him to his room,” Sebastian said. “I will join you as soon as I am able.”

Carver nodded curtly and turned. The crowd parted before him as Sebastian began barking orders behind him. He ignored the commotion and watched the people around him. None seemed too keen to get any closer. Grant’s steps were unsteady and he looked ready to pass out. Carver paused to sweep him up and hurried out.

The halls were nearly empty and he just managed to keep himself from running through them. His instincts were telling him to flee the castle and just keep going. Instead he hurried to Grant’s room and gently laid him out on his bed. Carver loosened his belt and the buttons at his neck, pausing to listen for his breathing. It was steady and strong, his eyes closed in sleep. Some of his worry eased but the rest had him pacing the room, wishing he had his sword.

The door slamming open had him crouched, and ready to rush whoever had thrown it open. Anne raced across the room without a glance at him and sat beside Grant on the bed. She patted his cheek lightly but he didn’t respond.

“He’s sleeping,” Carver said before she could actually wake him. “He’ll be fine with rest.”

Her gaze snapped to him. “What’s wrong with him?”

“I’d guess he didn’t have enough mana,” said Carver stepping closer. “Or he pulled too much too quickly. Casting powerful spells can sap a mage’s energy quickly.”

Anne turned back to Grant and held his hand between hers. “You knew.”

“Yes. I knew.”

“And yet…”Her voice trailed off and she looked up at him, puzzled.

“I’ve spent most of my life around mages,” Carver said calmly. “My father, my brother, my twin. Five or six years in Kirkwall as a Templar recruit. Wandering Thedas afterwards escorting apostates to the strongholds. Mages don’t frighten me. You don’t seem very surprised.”

“My mother often spoke of the son she’d lost,” said Anne glancing at him. “She warned me constantly of the curse her blood carried.”

“Magic is not a curse,” he said harshly.

“No,” she said calmly looking up at him. “It’s a terrible gift, a burden to all who bare it. I do not fear my son. I fear losing my son.”

“The circles are all disbanded,” Carver said. “I’ll take him to Antiva or Ferelden if Sebastian won’t see reason. He won’t be subjected to what mages were forced to endure before.”

“You should change,” she said turning back to Grant. “I love my husband but I fear what might come of this.”

He didn’t want to leave Grant but knew his mother wouldn’t do anything foolish. Carver hurried to his room and changed as fast as he could. He also spared a few minutes to stuff his pack full of his clothes and the few other things he had scattered around the room. With his sword strapped to his back, Carver left his pack next to the door and went back to Grant’s room.

Anne still sat at his bedside but she looked up at him briefly as he entered. Since he expected a hasty exit might be necessary, Carver folded some of Grant’s clothes and tied them neatly into one of his shirts. This was set on the desk chair where it could be grabbed easily. There was nothing left to do but wait.


	18. Chapter 18

Grant coughed as he woke. He had an awful taste in his mouth and he looked around a little confused.

“There we are,” Graham said smiling.

His mentor sat next to him holding a small vial. He could see Carver standing behind Graham frowning deeply, his brows pulled down in what he hoped was concern. Grant noticed that he wasn’t lying flat and looked up to find his head pillowed in his mother’s lap.

“Thank the Maker,” she said with a relieved smile.

“What was that stuff?” Grant asked as he sat up.

“Something that’s a little hard to come by,” Graham said standing. He pocketed the vial and moved to stand next to Carver. “I told your mother that you’d be fine but…mother’s worry.”

“Why didn’t you tell me Grant?” Anne said.

“I…didn’t want to be thrown out,” Grant said studying his comforter. “Father was already ashamed of me…that would just make it worse.”

“Haven’t seen Sebastian yet,” Graham said. “The soldiers that had been sent to fetch me nearly broke down my door. That was around an hour ago.”

“You’ve been sleeping for at least two,” said Carver. He was frowning at the doorway when Grant looked up at him.

He looked to the door and scooted to the edge of the bed. “You’re not…mad at me are you?” Grant asked hesitantly.

“Of course not,” he replied irritably.

“Carver has itchy feet,” Graham said glancing at the doorway. “To be perfectly honest so do I.”

“The whole of Starkhaven will know by morning,” Anne said softly.

“What’s going to happen to me?” said Grant in a small voice.

“From past experience you’ll be ran off or lynched,” said Carver.

“The war is far from over,” said Graham. “We have safe havens now but it will take the people years to forget what the Chantry taught them. Sebastian might be able to calm most of his citizens if he decides to be reasonable.”

Grant glanced at Anne and back to Graham. His mentor gave him a tiny smile and said, “Your mother is pretty sharp. She confronted me the instant I walked in.”

“Sebastian’s not stupid either,” Carver said his frown deepening. “I really wish…”

“Nothing for it now,” Graham sighed when Carver trailed off.

“Maybe we should just go,” said Grant standing.

The door opened before he’d finished speaking. Sebastian shut it behind him and leaned back wearily. “No one is going to be leaving,” he said.

“Father,” Grant said taking a step towards him.

“Be silent please,” Sebastian said with his stern frown. “I will speak with you privately.” Grant scowled at him but he’d turned his frown on Graham and Carver. “I should have you both thrown in the dungeons.”

“No Sebastian,” Anne said stepping forward next to Grant.

“Do you know who this man is Anne?” Sebastian said gesturing at Graham. “This man who has been teaching our son for four years.”

“Oh dear,” Graham said mildly. “I think I’ve been found out.”

“Spare me your glib tongue Hawke,” he said with barely restrained fury. “What nonsense have you been filling his head with?”

“Nonsense?” Graham said arching an eyebrow. “Teaching him to use and control his gift is nonsense?” He grinned and took a step forward. “Or are you referring to giving him a peek into your past? Telling him what you’ve conveniently forgotten or simply never believed?”

“I will not be drawn into this old argument,” Sebastian said coldly after a moment. “I don’t know how you survived the first time but you live now by my grace alone. Your lessons will be strictly supervised and when Grant no longer requires your knowledge you will be escorted out of the city.”

“Very well my Prince,” said Graham rolling his eyes as he stepped back.

Sebastian glared at him for a moment before turning to Carver. “I trusted you.”

His voice was cold and hard, his expression the epitome of fury. Carver gazed back, seemingly calm and unashamed. Grant took a nervous step forward but Anne’s hand on his shoulder stopped him.

“I’ve been watching you,” said Sebastian stepping away from the door towards Carver. “The things I saw tonight have only confirmed my suspicions. What have you done to my son?”

“I haven’t done anything _to_ him,” Carver said his calm façade falling apart as he glared back. “What _we_ choose to do when no one else is watching is between us.”

“Have you no shame?” Sebastian hissed furiously. “Grant is sixteen!”

“Old enough to figure out what he likes,” Graham said. “How old were you Sebastian? Younger than Grant is if I remember correctly.”

“Nadia wasn’t old enough to be my mother,” Sebastian snapped tuning his glare back onto Graham. “This discussion is not about me. It’s about my son being seduced and used for his amusement.”

Grant wasn’t sure who looked angrier, Graham or Carver. He hurried forward hoping he could prevent a disaster. Anne moved with him, veering towards Sebastian.

“Stop Sebastian,” Anne said sternly. “Perhaps you should listen to Grant explain.”

“You knew?” he said incredulously.

“Yes,” she replied. “I discovered their…relationship by chance. Their feelings are genuine.”

“Anne, this is unacceptable,” Sebastian said firmly. “Carver is…”

“It’s perfectly all right for Elle to sneak off with that big soldier.” Grant interrupted hotly. “You do know that he visits her room right? Douglas gets an approving smile when he finds love. You look the other way when Elle spends all day in the training yard drooling over her _inappropriate_ lover but you threaten to put mine in the dungeon. Stop leading me on and admit that you hate me!”

“I have explained…” retorted Sebastian moving around Anne.

“Graham didn’t teach me how to save Lydia,” Grant said softly.

“He must have,” Sebastian said after a moment.

“No, he didn’t,” said Grant stepping forward. “I’ve had dream after dream of healing the refugees in Darktown. Hours and hours of nothing but healing anyone who walked through my doors. Seneschal Bran, some of the prostitutes from the Rose, countless nobles that didn’t want their infidelity known. I remember healing every one of Hawke’s companions.”

Sebastian took a step back and shook his head. “He told you of these things.”

“Maker your thick sometimes,” Graham scoffed. “Anders couldn’t possibly have told me about every single person that he healed. That would take literally years.”

“I know how Anders died Father,” Grant said his voice shaking. “You hated me then. Why wouldn’t you hate me now?”

“No,” Sebastian said in a small voice shaking his head again. “I don’t hate you.”

“Grant,” Anne said stepping forward. “What are you saying?”

He took a shuddering breath and tried to calm himself. “I knew…because Anders knew. The dreams. They’re Anders’ memories.”

“How is that possible?” whispered Sebastian.

“The Maker has a grand sense of humor Sebastian,” Graham said cheerfully. “Your son has been blessed with Anders’ soul.”

Sebastian shook his head again in the stunned silence.

“Come Sebastian,” Anne said turning him towards the door. “Let us go to your study.” Sebastian swallowed hard and nodded, taking her hand. “Please join us,” she said looking over her shoulder. “Fifteen minutes or so.”

“Yes Mother,” Grant said softly.

He watched her lead his thunderstruck father out of his room. Grant took in another shaky breath and felt Carver’s hand at his shoulder. In a way he felt as shocked as Sebastian. There were no more secrets to keep. His parents knew everything now.

“Confession time Grant,” Graham said gently. “From what Carver’s told me, you couldn’t have healed that girl without a little help.”

“I called to the spirits,” he said slowly turning to face them. “I had hoped for a spirit of compassion. Normally they are the ones who respond…”

“But?” Carver said frowning.

“I…think it was Justice…”

“Maker,” Carver said irritably. He pulled Grant close and wrapped his arms around him. “Grand my ass.”

Graham chuckled as Grant returned his embrace. “We’re still alive brother,” he said cheerfully.

“And Sebastian might still change his mind,” Carver said ominously.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another cliffhanger. Sorry. =/


	19. Chapter 19

Sebastian sat in an overstuffed chair in his study. Discovering that Grant was a mage had made sense of his odd behavior and the sudden insistence on studying with Graham Harrison all the time. Grant’s teacher obviously being a mage had made him realize just who had been teaching his son. Sebastian wasn’t happy with Hawke’s presence in Starkhaven. Despite Hawke’s rebellious nature he could think of no one more qualified to help Grant. Carver’s unapologetic admission still infuriated him.

“Why didn’t you tell me about them?” he asked softly.

“Because he makes Grant happy,” Anne said crossing the room with a glass. She sat on the arm of the chair and handed it to him. “I still think Carver is too old for him but…”

“It cannot continue,” Sebastian said. He sipped at the wine and sat back in his chair.

“Sebastian, he is ready to flee,” Anne sighed. “If you deny him this we will certainly lose him.”

He sighed and pressed his face into her side. If Grant truly did have Anders’ soul then it was inevitable. Sebastian wasn’t sure he believed them though.

“Please Sebastian,” said Anne. She rubbed his back and he sighed again. “I do not want to lose our son.”

“What would you have me do?” said Sebastian.

“Let them be.”

“Very well my love.” He sat up straight and took another sip of wine. “I do not believe it to be wise but I will not…hinder them.”

“What of the nobles?”

“Lord and Lady Morrison are grateful of course. The others…it’s too soon to tell. I wanted to keep Grant here for a time. At least until Captain Treven can figure out exactly what happened. I fear some will believe Grant caused Lydia’s fall somehow.”

“He couldn’t possibly have caused it. Grant and Carver were at the tables.”

“I don’t believe he did. Very few here have actually encountered a mage however. They will act on tales of the fighting elsewhere and the Chantry’s teachings. Anne, you must help me convince him that staying here is for the best.”

“Grant is young Sebastian. He is not foolish. Carver has already frightened him enough. I believe Grant will agree to stay at the castle or he will flee Starkhaven altogether.”

“I hope you’re right. I don’t want him to think…Do you know of the dreams he mentioned?”

“Only that he has been dreaming of Anders’ life. They gave me no details. He may have confided in Graham. Grant was very shaken that morning…”

“What morning?” Sebastian asked.

“The morning I discovered their…intimacy,” Anne said standing. She walked to the decanter and pulled another glass from the shelf. “I was drawn by Grant’s cries…frightened yet sad. Carver was already there, completely naked with Grant clinging to him.”

“How did you know Carver wasn’t the cause?” Sebastian asked frowning.

“I didn’t,” she replied. “The things people say in anger are often unguarded. I was furious. I asked him much the same question you did. He spoke without thought, nothing he hasn’t wanted me to. Grant begged my silence.”

Sebastian nodded slowly as she crossed the room. Anne sat on the arm of his chair and silence fell. He tried to clear his mind. After a few minutes had passed there was a brief knock on the mostly shut door and it was pushed open seconds later. Hawke strode in, looking as serious as he had been every other time Sebastian had seen him in the last four years.

He bowed slightly before taking the chair directly opposite him. Grant followed him in and slumped down on the love seat. That Grant had chosen the seat furthest from him and closest to the door did not escape Sebastian’s notice. He had changed clothes to the peasant’s attire he seemed to prefer and slouched sullenly. Carver pushed the door mostly shut and stood stoically behind Grant.

“So,” Hawke said into the silence. “Here we are.”

“Just make your demands,” Grant grumbled. “Then we can sneak out.”

“Do you truly wish to leave?” Sebastian said softly.

“No,” he mumbled. “This is my home. I don’t want to be stuck at the castle again.”

“Grant,” Sebastian said. “You’ll be safer here.”

“I’ll be under your thumb,” he snapped irritably. “Exactly where you want me so you can make sure I turn out exactly how you want me to.”

“Grant,” Hawke said in frustration. Grant huffed and sunk further into the love seat. “We have an opportunity here Sebastian.”

“I’m listening,” said Sebastian frowning slightly.

“Thirty years ago the Templars would have already hauled Grant off. Despite your best efforts the general population knows what Grant looks like. They know he’s kind and polite. If they don’t already, they’ll soon know he’s a mage. It sounds as if you’d prefer Grant remained in Starkhaven?”

“I would.”

“This is what I propose. Grant remains here at the castle while you calm your people. When the fuss dies down, things go back the way they were. If there is dissention about a mage walking about the streets tell them Carver was a Templar. The people will hopefully see that Grant is just as kind and polite, that being a mage hasn’t made him crazy or volatile.”

“And what of you? You have taught him for four years.”

“Sebastian, I’ve been living here for ten years. Most of the people in the poor section know I’m a mage. They’ll protect me. Just like they always have.” He frowned and Hawke smirked. “My clinic isn’t entirely free. I charge a pittance so that I can eat. The poor appreciate it none the less. I learned a lot from Anders.”

“Will you come to the castle to teach Grant?” Anne asked.

“Every morning,” Hawke said. “I’ll show up bright and early. If you’ll provide us with a private space I’ll give him lessons until lunch. He’s not as distracted in the morning.”

Carver huffed in annoyance and scowled at his brother.

Sebastian held back a scowl of his own and turned to Grant. “Is this acceptable?”

“I want Carver moved to my room,” said Grant defiantly.

“I do not want everyone to know…” Sebastian said frowning.

“They’ll know anyway when I wake up in his room,” Grant interrupted. “I’m tired of sneaking around. Elle…”

“Just…be discreet please,” said Sebastian holding up a hand.

“Thank you,” Grant said. “Can I go to bed now? I’m still very tired.”

“Yes,” Sebastian said. “Hawke, if you would remain for a few more minutes.”

“Of course,” he said settling back in the chair. “I’ll see you tomorrow Grant.”

“I’ll be here,” Grant replied irritably as he stood.

Grant strode to the door and Carver followed after a little wave to Hawke. Sebastian stood and closed the door when they had left. He turned and slowly walked back to his chair. “I don’t believe you.”

“Then believe Grant,” he replied shortly. “He can tell you all sorts of things that he shouldn’t know.”

“How do I know that he’s not just passing on information from you and Carver?”

“Would Carver or I know about the time he spent in Amaranthine with the Wardens?” Hawke asked standing. “Would we know exactly what happened when he joined with Justice? Would we know of some of the atrocities inflicted on him during the year he spent in solitary confinement in Fereldan’s Circle? Grant has told me exactly how Anders rigged the Chantry to explode at the moment he chose. Anders was my best friend and he didn’t trust me with that information. Believe me or not. The only reason I care at all about you is because you’re his father. You’d be wise not to make the same mistake with Grant that you did with Anders.”

He watched Hawke walk calmly to the door. There was no look back, he simply opened it and left. Sebastian sat there for a moment his mind and his emotions in turmoil. Slowly he stood and looked to Anne.

“I will be in the Chantry,” he said softly.

Anne nodded and slid into the seat he’d vacated.


	20. Chapter 20

Grant had fallen into his bed and was asleep almost immediately. Carver dropped his pack before loosening Grant’s trousers. After the lamps were blown out he settled on the other side of the bed, his sword on the floor beside him, still dressed with his trousers also loosened. The end of this day had not turned out at all as he’d expected. All of the secrets they’d been keeping had been revealed in one form or another. Carver was thankful to be alive and completely flabbergasted to be sleeping in Grant’s bed.

Rather than stare at the ceiling, Carver rolled to his side and scooted closer to Grant. He couldn’t help his nervous energy. His instincts were still telling him to flee. No matter how calm Sebastian seemed Carver suspected that he hadn’t wanted him anywhere near Grant. He scooted a little closer and Grant rolled towards him. Carver tried to clear his mind, focusing on the peaceful mage in front of him until he’d fallen asleep as well.

When morning arrived after a restless night Carver found Grant mostly awake and snuggled against him. Neither of them broke the quiet for a while, until he felt a hand sliding under his small clothes. Carver snorted in amusement. Grant rose slightly and grinned, hand rubbing his cock. He pulled Grant down with one hand and let the other drift down his body.

Kisses were exchanged and hands wandered under clothing. Eventually their trousers ended up in a tangle with the blankets at the end of the bed. Grant straddled his hips and rocked with Carver’s hands on his hips. There was no reason to hurry. Both of his parents knew Carver was here. If Sebastian hadn’t relented Grant would likely have spent the entire night in his room and been unapologetic about it. They both remained fairly quiet however and lay entwined together afterwards.

“Have we missed breakfast yet?” Grant asked lethargically.

“Not yet,” Carver said. “We’d better get a move on though. Where am I supposed to eat now?”

“With the soldiers,” sighed Grant. He sat up and pulled his shirt off. “I don’t think Father would believe eating together is very discreet.”

“Neither is sleeping in the same room,” Carver said sitting up as well. “Or finding our clothes in the same bin.”

“As long as we’re not seen holding hands or kissing or things like that,” Grant said rooting through the blankets for their trousers.

“So we just have to keep our distance when we’re not alone,” said Carver digging through his pack. “Fair enough. I’ll get something to eat and be waiting for you outside the dining hall.”

“All right,” Grant said after dropping their slept in clothes in the dirty bin. “See you in a bit.”

Grant kissed his cheek quickly on the way by. Carver watched him pull clothing out of his wardrobe while he tied up his trousers. He turned and Carver smiled at him before settling his shirt on his shoulders. His sword came next and Carver waited a moment to open the door, making sure Grant had his trousers up at least. He made his way to the soldier’s cafeteria and listened carefully.

There was nothing official on the cause of Lydia Morrison’s fall but speculation was abundant. There were rumors of sabotage, sloppy carpentry when the ball room had been renovated recently and even a few that thought maybe she’d been helped through the balcony rail. It was these people that Carver paid the most attention to. Several names were mentioned but none of them Grant’s. So far there were no whispers of him and Grant but he knew that would take a little while longer to circulate.

He didn’t have to wait long for Grant and the boy’s scowl deepened his frown. “What now?” he said quietly.

Grant turned down the hall and he followed. “Father still insists on supervision. Douglas will deal with his morning duties while he watches. On top of that we get to spend every morning in the dungeons.”

“Garrett’s not going to like that,” Carver muttered. “Neither do I.”

“I hate it,” Grant snapped. “Is he planning on coming with when he deigns to let me out of the castle again?”

“I hope not. It’s not going to be easy to discuss a few things.”

“They’ll be discussed anyway. Father can just deal with it. He knows everything else. Hopefully Graham can get him to realize the difference between a Spirit Healer and being possessed.”

“And if he can’t we’ll be headed for Antiva anyway.”

“I know,” Grant sighed. “I don’t really want to leave but I will if I have to. I just…wish he’d accept me.”

Carver gripped his shoulder a moment and they finished the trip in silence. Grant led the way down into the bowels of the castle. Torches in sconces along the narrow hallway were soon the only light source. They were escorted by a guardsman to a room that looked like it might have had an unsavory purpose until very recently. Hooked pegs ran along the wall at even intervals and there were marks on the floor where it looked like heavy objects might have sat for years before being hastily removed.

He made sure the door was left open, much to the guardsmen’s irritation, and stood blocking the doorway watching the hall for his brother and Sebastian. When they did appear, Garrett was glaring and Sebastian was scowling. The same guardsman that had led them here made a hasty retreat after a quick fist to his heart.

“Really Sebastian?” Garrett growled. “The dungeons?”

“The walls are solid and will not burn,” he replied semi calmly. “It’s the safest place for everyone.”

“I learned in an open forest,” Garrett said through clenched teeth.

“Even apprentices in the Gallows learned on the upper floors,” Carver added stepping aside. Garrett brushed by him angrily and Sebastian looked moderately outraged when he blocked the door again.

“What’s the meaning of this Carver,” Sebastian said coolly.

“A few rules, Prince,” he replied in a demanding tone. “If you insist on staying.” Sebastian frowned but motioned him to continue. “Do not interrupt. Do not go past the doorway. Down here if Garrett or I tell you to leave or move you’d damn well better do it. Mistakes are bound to happen.”

His frown was deep and his sapphire eyes cold but Sebastian nodded curtly. Carver turned and stood just to the side of the door, watching to make sure Sebastian didn’t move any further into the room. Garrett and Grant stood next to the opposite wall and only a soft murmur of voices could be heard. He kept his smile to himself knowing that Sebastian could also not make out any of their words. Carver crossed his arms over his chest and settled against the wall to watch and wait.

*

There hadn’t been much time the night before to explain exactly what he’d done to Graham. The plan he’d put forth to Sebastian had been hastily discussed and explanations would wait until morning no matter where they ended up. Graham had pulled him as far from the door as possible. Grant wasn’t exactly sure why his father didn’t leave the doorway but he was rather grateful. Despite his cavalier words in the hall upstairs Grant really didn’t want to cause Sebastian further stress by admitting he thought the spirit that had possessed Anders had helped him last night.

“What makes you think it was the same spirit?” Graham asked quietly.

“His voice,” Grant said after a moment of thought. “He…felt…familiar but not like any spirit or demon I’ve come across so far.”

“A unique spirit,” said Graham thoughtfully. “Changed irrevocably by his host and pulled back to the Fade upon his death. What did he say?”

“You have my power. I felt it, knew exactly what to do…how I could keep her alive and then repair the rest of the damage the fall had done. When he left…I felt like passing out.”

“This probably goes without saying but,” Graham said cautiously. “Be careful. Justice didn’t seem to be very nice the last few years Anders lived.”

“He’s the source of so many nightmares,” Grant said evenly. “I’m positive it was the same spirit though. It was brief but…he didn’t seem scary like my memories. More like…”

“Sad?” Graham offered when he trailed off.

“No,” Grant said shaking his head. “Almost repentant.”

“Interesting,” said Graham rubbing the scar along his jaw. “I wonder what Justice might feel he needs forgiven for.”

“I don’t know,” said Grant. “I feel I should ask his forgiveness. I’m the one who changed him.”

“Don’t dwell on it Grant,” Graham said gently. “What’s done is done. Anders did what he did to give every mage born after a fighting chance at life. I believe Justice, one way or another, gave him the courage to stand and fight. Let’s begin.”

Grant took a deep breath and nodded.


	21. Chapter 21

Not even a week had passed and Grant was already fuming restlessly. He hated being in the dungeons every morning and his father watching from the doorway. Grant felt pressured with Sebastian looming and naturally was having trouble because of it. Graham was becoming extremely frustrated though whether it was with him or his father Grant couldn’t say.

Besides his performance anxiety boredom was proving to be Grant’s biggest problem. Where he would either read for pleasure or study when he’d been stuck in the castle before, now he would rather be alone with Carver. The discretion Sebastian had asked of them was a little trying on him. Grant had continued to dream of his former life and there were many things he’d dreamed of and a few things Graham had taught him that he wanted to experience firsthand. With opportunity for that sort of activity limited to bedtime, Grant found most afternoons and evenings intolerable.

Morning lessons and lunch were now behind them and Grant wandered aimlessly through the large gardens with Carver following close by. His wandering became a bit less random when he noticed how empty they were. Grant stepped off the path and behind a large tree when he’d reached one of the dead ends. A large hedge shielded them from the city beyond but the only cover from the path was the tree. Grant knew there wouldn’t be any undressing involved but there was still a bit of fun to be had. He tugged on Carver’s vest after a grin, leaning against the trunk.

“This isn’t very discreet,” Carver said as he allowed himself to be pulled closer.

“The maids were probably gossiping about us the first day we slept the entire night together,” Grant said. “The rumors will have circulated throughout the servants and a good portion of the soldiers by now. If we are caught, they’ll just have a few more things to talk about.”

“I think that’s what Sebastian wanted to avoid,” said Carver.

“I really don’t want to discuss my father at the moment,” Grant said with a scowl.

“I don’t want to either but we’re going to have to at some point,” he replied with a deep frown. “Garrett’s going to lose his temper. Probably soon.”

“Can we talk later?” Grant said failing to keep the whine from his voice. “I want to kiss and touch. Maybe try a few of those spells Graham was teaching me.”

“No magic,” Carver said firmly. “Save that for the bedroom.”

Grant pouted for a moment then said, “What about the other bit?”

Carver looked around and upon seeing no one pulled his sword off his back and stuck it in the ground nearby. He leaned down slightly, one hand beside his head and the other resting on his hip. “I don’t fancy getting caught or being watched.” Their lips brushed together briefly and he continued softly. “You’ve been teasing me all afternoon though.”

“You noticed,” Grant said grinning.

“How could I not. You know I’m back there trying not to stare anyway.”

“I’m bored.” Grant shrugged and pulled up Carver’s shirt enough to slip his hands under. “Are you sure I can’t use magic.”

“Yes.”

Grant suddenly had Carver’s lips on his, tongue pushing through in a demanding kiss. He moaned softly and ran his hands up Carver’s sides. His cock had been at least half hard to begin with but Carver’s hand at his crotch, cupping and rubbing, made his trousers very uncomfortable very quickly. Grant slid his hands around to Carver’s stomach and began working at his laces. Carver pulled away just enough to let him breathe and yanked at the laces on his trousers.

“Suck me,” Carver whispered when both of their cocks were free. “But don’t tug yourself off.” He smiled at Grant’s whine and kissed him softly. “Don’t worry. You’ll like what I have in mind.”

He nodded and they kissed again before Grant knelt. Carver took a small step backwards and leaned against the tree with both hands. Grant had just enough room. He took in Carver’s cock and gripped his thighs. While he still couldn’t take in the larger man’s entire length he had learned what pleased him. Grant concentrated on keeping his teeth from scraping the tender flesh, rubbing his tongue along the underside, sucking on the head and poking his tongue into the slit. Carver watched him, breath steadily increasing. Carver’s hips jerked forward when he came. Grant gagged on his cock and he pulled out quickly, ropes of seed landing on his face as he coughed. His fingers carded through Grant’s short hair a couple of times before he straightened and knelt in front of him.

“Sorry,” Carver said apologetically swiping at the mess.

“It’s all right,” Grant said grinning as he took deep breaths. “I’ll get all of you down my throat without choking on it at some point.”

“There’s no rush,” said Carver.

“Can I tug off now?”

“Think you can stand?”

“Probably,” Grant said feeling a little confused. “What did… oh!”

Carver gave him that small smile and gestured for him to get up. Grant pushed himself up, knees a little weak from his coughing fit and excitement. He leaned against the tree and Carver scooted forward a little his hands coming to rest on Grant’s hips, holding them against the trunk. His cock stood out stiffly and Carver licked the end before it was engulfed. Grant gasped and thumped his head lightly.Half remembered dreams didn’t prepare him in the slightest for how it would actually feel to have someone’s mouth around his cock. After realizing the dreams for what they were, it didn’t surprise him that he hadn’t seriously considered asking Carver to reverse their roles. Even though Grant had no real comparison he knew he liked receiving more than thrusting. Anders had been much more submissive with his male partners than Grant had been so far but he’d relished the role in his previous life. He watched his cock disappear, felt Carver’s tongue and enjoyed the hot wetness surrounding his prick for the first time ever.

“Carver,” Grant groaned softly tugging on his hair lightly. “Gonna…”

His hips tried to jerk forwards but Carver held him tight to the tree. That didn’t stop the seed that pulsed out of his cock or the gasp as the tension that had built quickly released. Grant leaned heavily against the tree trunk as he panted, watching Carver turn and spit his seed to the grass.

“Thank you,” Grant said slowly sinking to a crouch.

“You’re welcome,” Carver said wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “I still prefer it the other way around.”

“I think I…”

“Lord Grant!”

“Shit,” Carver exclaimed softly. “Hurry.”

The calls continued as they hurriedly righted clothing. It was much closer when Grant ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath. Carver was sheathing his sword on his back and gestured. He stepped out from behind the tree, trying to appear casual as he crossed back to the stone path. One of the maid servants was looking around and calling out. When she saw him at the end she trotted closer.

“Please pardon the interruption, Lord,” she said deferentially with a deep curtsey. “Your presence has been requested in the throne room.”

“Really?” Grant said in surprise. “By who?”

“Prince Vael, my Lord. I believe Lord and Lady Morrison are also present.”

“Thank you. I’ll be right there,” said Grant politely.

She curtseyed again and hurried off. Carver shrugged at his glance and Grant led the way out of the gardens and through the castle wondering why he’d been summoned. Just before he entered the throne room Grant turned to Carver.

“Do I look all right?” he asked anxiously. Considering what they’d been doing a few minutes ago he wanted to make sure there was no obvious evidence.

“A little red faced but that’s explainable,” Carver said evenly. “If he figures it out we’ll both be in trouble this time.”

Grant didn’t find that very reassuring but smiled anyway. He pushed open the side door and crossed the room. Sebastian was sitting on the simple throne at one end, an elbow resting on the arm and his chin propped on that hand. Grant recognized the two people standing at the bottom of the raised dais his father sat on as Lydia’s parents. He stopped a short distance away and bowed politely to them.

“You wished to see me Father?” Grant asked turning to him.

“Grant,” Sebastian said gesturing to the noble couple standing not far away. “This is Lord and Lady Morrison. They wished to speak with you.”

“Thank you lad,” Lord Morrison said warmly with one arm outstretched. “My only child lives thanks to your… talents.”

“We’re very grateful,” Lady Morrison added.

“You’re welcome,” Grant said surprised but smiling as he shook hands with the Lord.

“We’ll do what we can to help Prince Vael calm the city,” Lord Morrison said patting his hand before letting go. “We are in your debt.”

Grant was struck speechless but smiled and bowed slightly.

“If you will wait in my study I’d like to speak with you as well Grant,” Sebastian said evenly.

“Yes Father,” Grant replied feeling his good mood plummeting.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little short but I think we're finally getting somewhere. =)

Carver stood by the door while Grant flopped into the chair in front of Sebastian’s desk. He hoped Grant’s father wasn’t aiming for another argument but he wasn’t very hopeful. No matter what Sebastian had to say he planned on bringing up his insistence on being present while Grant practiced in the mornings.

Many people would say Garrett Hawke didn’t have a temper but Carver knew better. It just took quite a bit to actually get him angry. Sebastian wasn’t his brother’s favorite person in the first place and Grant’s performance anxiety in front of his father was really starting to annoy him. Carver wasn’t thrilled with his constant presence either.

They only had to wait a few minutes before Sebastian joined them. He sat heavily into his chair and sighed. “The railing was rotten. It must have been missed during the remodel. The nobles are nervous. They have not spoken openly against you however.”

“What happens if they start?” Grant asked softly.

“Then… you will have to leave,” Sebastian sighed. “I do not believe it will come to that however. You will have to remain here at the castle for a while longer.”

“Are you sure you don’t just want…” Grant began irritably.

“Please,” Sebastian interrupted holding his hand up. “I don’t want to argue.”

Grant huffed and scowled but remained silent.

“Does that include arguing with my brother?” Carver asked after a few moments.

Sebastian looked up at him frowning with an eyebrow arched. “I have no interest in your brother what so ever besides what he can teach my son. The sooner he leaves Starkhaven the better.”

“What?” said Carver feeling stunned.

“That’s not what we agreed on Father,” Grant said as he shot to his feet.

“I understand it will take years,” Sebastian said evenly. “I still do not want him in Starkhaven.”

“You still don’t get it,” Carver growled angrily. “The only reason the three of us are still here is because Grant doesn’t want to leave. Do you really think Garrett enjoys being around the man who almost killed him? A man who tricked and schemed to get the job done?”

Grant had backed away and was staring at him wide eyed and frowning. Sebastian had sat back in his chair, a shocked expression there and gone just as quickly. Carver took a step forward, his hands clenched into fists and continued furiously.

“And while we’re at it, I don’t like being around you either. You left him for the crows and I found what was left! I built his pyre. I prayed over him. I watched until there was nothing left. I took his ashes and scattered them. Me, Carver Hawke. Former Templar and unbeliever did what the perfectly pious Sebastian Vael didn’t. What really pisses me off is you’d have left Garrett the same way.”

Silence descended on the room like a thick blanket. Grant’s gaze moved to his father, still wide eyed and his frown deepening. Carver met Sebastian’s eyes until the Prince looked away. He lowered his head to look at the top of his desk and gestured at the door.

“Please leave,” Sebastian said softly.

Carver turned immediately and stalked out. His fists were clenched tightly as he stopped a few feet from the door to wait for Grant. He hadn’t planned on losing his temper but that hot temper had been a plague for most of his life. Age and experience had cooled it somewhat but Sebastian managed to get under his skin with frightening regularity however. It was never because of something the Prince had done to him but constant reminders of what he’d done to Garrett, Anders and the unfairness that was still being heaped on Grant.

There were no raised voices from Sebastian’s office. When Grant joined him in the hallway a few minutes later his stride was calm and steady but he radiated cold fury. Carver fell into step behind him wordlessly and followed him through hallways to the room they now shared. Grant was across the room pulling the curtains over the balcony windows when Carver shut the door behind him.

“I am so sorry,” Grant said without turning.

“It’s not your fault he’s a pompous ass,” Carver grumbled.

“That’s not what I meant,” he replied softly. “We can leave if you want to…”

“No,” said Carver firmly. He placed his sword on the stand near the bed and sunk heavily onto it. “This is your home. If you leave it should be because _you_ want to.”

Grant joined him moments later but neither of them said anything more. Carver leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, and scrubbed his face trying to rid himself of unpleasant memories. Grant scooted closer and he felt arms around him, hands clasped together at his waist, cheek resting on his shoulder.

*

Sebastian knocked the arrow. He took a deep breath and sighted down it to the target, drawing the string taut. Sweat trickled down his temple but he ignored it as he released the string. His arrow flew towards the target and stuck just outside the center circle. He sighed as his thoughts continued to circle. When Carver and Grant had left he’d gone straight to the target range. Sebastian was no closer to being calm an hour later than when he’d started.

Grant had only spoken three words before he’d followed Carver out, justice or vengeance. His circling train of thought kept leading him to the latter. Everything had seemed so clear then. His life for the many he’d cut short. When he’d finally caught up with Anders Sebastian’s fury had been all consuming. He consoled himself with excuses for not properly caring for his body but the simple truth was he hadn’t wanted to. Hawke had been tougher to track down and he’d nearly given up hope on ever finding the man. There was simply no way he could have won against Hawke in a fair fight. Again he’d consoled himself with excuses for his underhanded actions.

“Sebastian,” Anne said in concern behind him. “What’s wrong?”

“I am a fool,” he replied bitterly drawing another arrow from his quiver. “My past haunts me.” He knocked the arrow and drew the bowstring taut. “My son hates me with good reason.” He sighted down the arrow and let go of the string. Sebastian sighed when it struck the target dead center.

“Grant doesn’t hate you.”

“He does.” Sebastian turned and found her frowning, worried. “His soul belongs to a man I murdered for nothing more than revenge.”

“Even if he shares my brother’s soul I know Grant doesn’t hate you,” Anne said earnestly stepping forward. “You are his father. He wants your approval. All he has ever wanted was a smile and some praise.”

“I’m sorry Anne,” he said dejectedly. “I never thought… I only wanted to keep him safe.”

“I know my love,” she said softly.

Anne stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him. After a moment Sebastian put his arms around her as well.

“I wish to speak with Mother Abigail,” Sebastian said after a few minutes. “I have much to confess.”

“I’ll help you clean up,” Anne said pulling away.

Sebastian couldn’t return her small smile but he was grateful for her none the less. He hadn’t known Anne was Anders’ younger sister until Grant was eight or so. She hadn’t known Anders, only that she had an older brother that had been taken by the Templars. Their two older children had taken after him but Grant’s resemblance to Anders had been clear even then. According to Anne, Grant bore a strong resemblance to her father.

He allowed himself to be led, wondering how he might atone for old sins and hoping that his relationship with Grant could be salvaged somehow.


	23. Chapter 23

Grant lay on his stomach early one morning five days later. Carver was on top of him, his cock buried deep inside. His thrusts were slow; his lips firm against Grant’s cheek and down his neck. Carver supported himself with one hand flat on the bed, Grant gripping that wrist. Their other hands were twined together tightly.

If there was one good thing that had come of revealing all of his secrets it was always having Carver in his bed. There was a chance to talk without the fear of anyone overhearing. Cuddling together all night, spontaneous sex before going to sleep, being able to take their time and figure out what the other enjoyed. The other spells Graham had taught him creative uses for was quickly turning into a favorite of them both. Morning sex also held a lot of appeal for Grant. Neither of them had to sleep in the inevitable mess they made, Carver seemed more relaxed and he usually felt invigorated. The handy bonus of being able to concentrate better on his studies had improved Graham’s mood as well.

It also helped quite a bit that Sebastian had been absent the last five mornings. The only place he did see his father at regularly was the dining room during meals. A few chance encounters around the castle were met with a polite smile that Grant had never seen directed at him before. Grant had a tendency to avoid his father anyway but he was beginning to wonder if Sebastian was avoiding him. With everyone’s tempers much improved lessons felt more normal, even though they were still stuck down in the dungeons.

He planned on asking his mother about Sebastian’s mysterious behavior at breakfast but that was still at least an hour away. Right now the only thing on Grant’s mind was Carver and the perfectly torturous pace he’d set. His cock brushed against that spot with every deep thrust, the small amount of movement teasing his own cock trapped between the bed and his body. Grant suspected it was punishment for teasing him with the electricity trick a few nights ago. If it was, he had already decided there would definitely be more mischievousness in the future.

Grant was nearly ready to beg his lover for release when Carver paused. He kissed Grant’s cheek and extracted his hand. Panting with excitement Grant gripped that wrist as Carver shifted above him. Carver began pounding into him. He couldn’t stay completely quiet as every powerful thrust slid him forward a little. Groaning steadily with Carver panting and grunting over him he could still hear the slap of his balls against his arse.

“Come on Grant,” Carver managed between grunts of effort. “I want to feel you explode. Feel that tight little ass squeeze my cock.”

It took a bit of effort but Grant clenched his arse. Carver cursed in surprise, his fast pace stuttering to a stop. Grant would have laughed if he hadn’t wanted to come so badly.

“Please Carver,” he whimpered rolling his hips against the bed. “Please, please, please… I need this…”

“Cheeky,” Carver said breathlessly as he pulled out.

Moments later he effortlessly lifted Grant’s hips. It only took a couple of quick tugs before he cried out loudly as he sprayed the sheets below. Carver carefully lowered him back down and collapsed off to one side. Grant smiled contentedly and turned his head to see his lover.

“You’re going to be sore,” Carver said softly caressing one arse cheek. “I wasn’t holding much back.”

“If I end up walking funny it’ll be worth it,” Grant said grinning. “Let’s get cleaned up. I want to talk to Mother.”

“We’ve got some time yet,” said Carver rolling to his back.

“I wish we had more time,” said Grant crawling over to straddle him.

“What would you do with more time?”

“I’d make myself hard again.” Grant leaned over and pressed their lips together. “I love taking your cock but I want to know what you feel too.”

“Next time,” Carver said pulling him down.

Talk ceased as their lips slid together. Grant ran his hands through Carver’s hair, feeling his hands squeezing and caressing his arse. For several more minutes they lay entangled together, kissing and touching, making use of what little time alone they were allowed. Clean up was quick and Grant knew his cheeks were flushed and his lips still kiss swollen when he made his way to the dining room.

Sebastian was absent and his siblings had grown accustomed to seeing him in this semi aroused state. Douglas didn’t seem to care one way or the other after the initial congratulatory slap on the back. Elle usually grinned at him every single time he showed up to a meal red faced with a goofy grin of his own. His father had usually done his stern little disapproving thing Grant hated but the last five days he had only glanced at Grant and seemed to be trying to ignore it.

Grant wasn’t sure when or how it had happened but Carver had proved his sincerity to Anne. He thought that Carver’s actions the night of the ball might have had quite a bit to do with it. She never mentioned his flushed cheeks or swollen lips. This morning was no different and he filled his plate.

“Where’s Father?” Grant asked casually between bites.

“He’s already eaten,” Anne said. “He had an early task to complete.”

“Mother,” said Grant a few minutes later. “Is Father avoiding me?”

“Not avoiding,” said Anne softly. “I suggested he give you some time to calm down.”

“Why would he care now?” Grant frowned suspiciously and glanced over at her. “He never has before.”

“Sebastian does care about you Grant.” She patted his arm and smiled sadly. “Please give him one more chance.”

Grant finished eating in silence. His father had never seemed to care about anything that he actually had wanted. It was true that his demands of late had been sort of met but most of them had been on Sebastian’s terms. He couldn’t help being suspicious and wondering what his father wanted this time.

Anne squeezed his shoulder before she turned down the hallway. Carver was waiting for him as usual and fell in behind him as they went the opposite direction. They hadn’t made it to the first set of stairs when Grant rounded a corner and nearly ran into his father.

“Grant,” Sebastian said a little breathlessly.

“I’m sorry Father,” said Grant. “I didn’t see you coming.”

“It’s quite all right,” he replied with that new polite little smile. “I have good news for you… and something I’d like to say to both of you.”

“All right,” Grant said hesitantly.

“I have been all over the city these last five days with Lord and Lady Morrison,” Sebastian said. “I believe it is okay for you to leave the castle now.”

“Really?” said Grant feeling shocked.

“Yes. It will never truly be safe for you but…” Sebastian closed his eyes for a moment and looked up at Carver. “Please remain vigilant.” Carver nodded curtly and Sebastian sighed as he stepped back. “I have wronged both of you and I am deeply sorry.”

“Father…”

“You are my son.” Sebastian gripped his shoulders lightly. “And I have not been the best father to you.”

Grant stared at him in shocked disbelief. His father smiled. It was a small sad thing. He squeezed Grant’s shoulders briefly and turned to the side, gesturing down the hallway.

“Hawke will be expecting you at the clinic,” he said softly.

Sebastian looked a little reluctant as he stepped away, turned and rounded the corner. Grant watched him disappear and turned to Carver. The warrior was watching him, frowning slightly.

“Am I dreaming?” Grant asked in a small voice.

“If you are,” Carver replied evenly. “Then I’m having the same one.”

“There’s got to be some sort of catch,” said Grant. “There always is.”

“He seemed sincere enough,” said Carver with a shrug. “Let’s go see if we actually make it out of the castle.”

Grant nodded and hurried through corridors and down stairs to the front gates. The guards looked at him like they always did but didn’t stop him or even speak to him. As good as it felt to be out in the city Grant hurried through side streets and alleys to Graham’s clinic. Graham was sitting on the edge of his desk, a pack at his feet. He grinned broadly and stood, shouldering the pack.

“Ready to go?” he said cheerfully.

“Go where?” Grant said. “Did Father come here?”

“No,” Graham said casually strolling across the clinic. “He came to my house. Told me not to bother going to the castle and you’d be along shortly. I thought we’d make a day of it and go gathering.”

“Did he say anything else?” Carver asked.

“As a matter of fact he did,” said Graham. “He apologized for this.” He ran his fingers along the scar on his jaw. “And all the other holes he put in me.”

“Did he mean it?” said Grant stepping forward. “No caveat, no unless you do this. Just… I’m sorry?”

“He seemed sincere enough,” Graham replied with a shrug. Carver snickered and Grant huffed irritably. Graham arched an eyebrow at them. “Did I miss something?”

“That’s exactly what he said,” Grant said waving a hand at Carver. “I don’t believe it. Father hasn’t tormented me all these years to just give up after a few temper tantrums.”

“Maybe he wasn’t trying to torment you,” Graham said calmly. “Let’s not worry about Sebastian for a while. We’ll go gathering, have a nice picnic, maybe go skinny dipping in the Minanter. The water should be warm enough now.”

Grant heaved a sigh and nodded. “It will be nice to get out for a while. I’ll probably get in trouble when we get back though.”

“Not at all,” said Graham grinning. “All lessons are at my discretion. Places, subject matter, length, everything.” He gestured at the door and said, “After you.”


	24. Chapter 24

The day had been pleasant. Carver watched over them while they crouched in the undergrowth and practiced the forms while they trained. Lunch was followed by splashing in the river and then an hour or so of lying on a grassy patch of bank to dry. They spoke of anything but Sebastian and Starkhaven in general but now that they were heading home Grant had become silent and thoughtful.

Carver followed him through the streets watching the people around them closely. So far it didn’t seem much different than before everyone knew he was a mage. There were some that crossed the street or hurried by but everyone still moved aside for him the way they always had. More people acknowledged him than before and Grant still smiled and nodded, politely answered questions. Suppertime got closer and closer but they were still nowhere near the castle.

“We’re not going back yet are we,” Carver said over the hum of the crowd.

“If I’m going to be in trouble,” Grant said moodily. “I’d like to do something to actually be in trouble for.”

He sighed and pulled Grant into the nearest alley away from the crowded streets. Grant’s face was set in a stubborn frown and he leaned against the wall.

“I don’t blame you for being skeptical,” said Carver evenly. “If you want to push Sebastian that’s fine.” He leaned in close. “If what you’re thinking of is dangerous or stupid you can forget it right now. I’ll throw you over my shoulder if I have to.”

Grant scowled and crossed his arms over his chest. “I was hoping you’d support me.”

“I will unless you’re trying to get yourself killed or kidnapped. You want to break some rules. Be smart about it. Don’t go looking for trouble.”

“I just want to know if Father is serious. There has never been a time where I wasn’t restricted or had my own special set of rules. Now he’s just going to let all that go? I don’t believe it. Father’s planning something.”

“Maybe he is and maybe he isn’t. Let’s not hand him an ‘I told you so’.”

“All right,” Grant sighed. “I guess I need to think about this a little more.”

“Staying out past supper is a decent start,” Carver said pulling him away from the wall. “As long as we’re not out late enough to become targets.”

“Let’s go visit one of the stands,” said Grant nodding. “We’ll take the long way home.”

Carver pulled him into a brief hug then nudged him towards the mouth of the alley. He followed Grant down the street and across the square, watching and listening. Like he had many times before, Grant chose simple peasant fare and they ate silently as they walked. The route he chose was circuitous. It was well past supper by the time the castle gates came into view.

Grant slowed to a stop and Carver followed his line of sight. He was watching a couple across the street. They were walking slowly away, his arm around her shoulder and hers around his waist. After they were out of sight around a corner Grant grabbed his hand and pulled him closer to the wall.

“I have another idea,” he said smugly. “There’s nothing dangerous and it’ll likely drive Father crazy.”

“You want to be less discreet,” Carver said confidently.

“No one else in the castle is. Besides the fact I didn’t have his express permission to lose my virginity, the… inappropriateness of us must really bother him.”

“So… kissing, holding hands… that sort of stuff?”

“I wouldn’t mind a little groping every now and then,” Grant said his smile turning sheepish.

“That would definitely test Sebastian’s patience,” Carver said. “And my restraint.”

“It’ll be nice though,” said Grant stepping closer. “All the staff knows we sleep in the same room and have sex. I’d be surprised if all of the soldiers didn’t know it as well.”

“Along with half the city,” muttered Carver looking around. Nothing seemed amiss and he pulled Grant to him. “Might as well show them I’m not just a perverted old man getting his kicks from a teenager.”

“Carver,” Grant said reproachfully looking up at him.

He smiled and kissed Grant’s forehead before pulling him into a hug. “All kidding aside that would be nice. It sort of bothers me that’s what everyone thinks.”

“You know,” Grant said squirming around in his arms. “Your sword makes hugging a little awkward.” Grant ended up twisting his upper body to the side, his arms tucked in close to his chest and his head resting on Carver’s shoulder. “There. Now move your hand a little lower… perfect.”

They stood there for a few long minutes, Grant smiling happily tucked up neatly in his arms. Carver was smiling as well as he watched the people passing by, one hand resting low on his hip. People glanced as they walked by, usually with a second longer look. One of the guards at the gates was openly staring at them.

“The gate guards are watching,” Carver said softly.

“That’s the point,” Grant replied smirking up at him. “He’ll run straight to Father. They always do.”

Carver leaned down and pressed their lips together briefly before squeezing his arse cheek. “Let’s get inside.”

Grant twined their fingers together and they strolled casually through the gates. Like the citizens on the street outside, the servants and soldiers glanced once and then took a longer second look. Carver saw many quickly hidden stunned and incredulous expressions. Grant seemed to be enjoying the attention. He led them into the gardens and out to the benches towards the center.

They sat quietly hip to hip for a while their fingers still locked together, and watched the sun set. Carver was still watchful but he enjoyed the simple affections. On their way up to the bedroom they didn’t see any of his family members. When the door was safely shut behind them Grant sat on the bed and grinned up at him.

“What else can we do to irritate Father?” he asked cheerfully.

“What other ridiculous rules can you break?” Carver asked as he set his sword on its stand.

“Staying out late, not hiding us,” Grant mused as he bent to pull off his boots. “He always gave me that look if I was late to breakfast.”

“That’ll be easy to accomplish,” said Carver sitting next to him.

“Maybe I’ll let my hair grow out. Get one of my ears pierced.” Grant leaned back on his elbows and chuckled. “I used to be ridiculously vain. My hair had to be just so and that earring… not sure I could handle a skirt though.”

“Then you couldn’t tease me by wiggling your arse all day.”

“It’d make sex in Graham’s basement a lot easier. I’d just hike up the skirt and bend over. Or we could just get comfortable on the floor and I’d sit on your lap, the skirts pooled around us and hiding our naughty bits.”

“Sorry,” Carver said leaning over him. “I like the tight pants better. The earring would look nice though.”

“Definitely getting my ear pierced then,” Grant said grinning.

Carver ran a hand down his jaw, leaning over further for a kiss. His hand drifted down as their tongues slid together, pausing to rub a nipple through his shirt then down to tug loose the laces of his trousers. Grant hummed, pushing his hips up into Carver’s hand and began tugging on his shirt. Parting only long enough to rid themselves of their clothing, they kissed and caressed until both of them were fully erect.

“Do you want me on my back or my hands and knees,” Carver asked between kisses.

“Back,” Grant said pulling away.

“Start with your fingers,” said Carver scooting around on the bed to position himself. “It’s been a very long time since I’ve bottomed.”

He held his legs behind his knees and Grant settled between them. Carver smiled encouragingly at Grant’s tentative touches. Grant smiled back and conjured a palm full of grease. He scooped some up into his other hand and stroked his cock a few times. The rest went around his entrance, Grant rubbing in circles before cautiously penetrating him with a single finger.

It felt odd to Carver but not unpleasant. That Grant sought his approval before pushing further in helped. When one finger began feeling good Carver told him to add another, and again when he was comfortable with two. Grant gained confidence with every pleased sigh Carver uttered. He grinned after he’d found that spot and Carver began panting.

“Are you ready?” Grant asked softly still thrusting slowly with his fingers.

“Yeah,” said Carver. “Nice and slow…”

Grant stroked his cock a few more times before scooting forward. Carver exhaled noisily as he felt Grant’s cock slowly filling him up.

“Oh,” Grant muttered. “Andraste’s knickers…”

“Now just stay put,” Carver panted. “Let me get used to you…”

“Not sure I’ll last very long,” he said in a shaky whisper.

“I didn’t either my first time.” Carver let go of his legs, letting them rest on Grant’s thighs. “Lean over me and go slow.”

Grant nodded and did as he was told, his hands supporting his weight beside Carver’s chest. He groaned softly as he began rolling his hips. The slow pace felt wonderful and he was soon panting. Grant was moaning steadily, his rhythm becoming a little erratic as he inevitably sped up. Carver stroked himself, eyes mostly shut, thoroughly enjoying this role reversal. Grant spent himself first, moaning breathlessly as he stuttered to a stop.

Carver wrapped his legs around the boy, keeping him balls deep, and tugged his cock furiously until he came too. Grant gasped and leaned forward until their foreheads touched. Carver sighed contentedly and they disentangled themselves, lying next to one another as their breathing evened out.

“Good?” Carver asked rolling to find his discarded small clothes.

“Yes,” Grant said softly. “I think I still like it better the other way though.”

“Just let me know when you want another go.”

He settled on his back after cleaning the spend off of his abdomen. Grant snuggled up next to him and they were both soon sleeping peacefully.


	25. Chapter 25

“Good morning,” Grant said cheerfully.

Sebastian glanced up and closed his eyes for a moment. He had expected a bit of wildness from his youngest. Staying out past supper and being late for breakfast the next morning were nothing compared to what he’d done as a young man. Though he didn’t like it, Carver and Grant being open about the exact nature of their relationship wasn’t entirely surprising either.

Within the city their affections remained appropriate. His eyes and ears had reported a lot of hand holding, arms around waists and chaste kisses. The whole castle had known of the sexual nature of their relationship and now the entire city was abuzz with gossip about Grant and his much older lover. It had quickly over taken the mage rumors in popularity.

Here within the castle their affections had become very inappropriate. Many of the soldiers and a few of the servants had reported seeing them in the gardens or some of the lesser used hallways shamelessly groping each other or involved in a very heated kiss. Sebastian himself had witnessed them at it just last night.

By chance he’d happened to be heading to the kitchens for a late snack when movement in a dark corner had caught his eye. Grant’s back had been to him, his arms locked around Carver’s chest. His shirt must have been mostly unbuttoned as the collar sat down at his shoulder blades with most of his shoulders bare. Carver had his hands down Grant’s trousers and his lips at Grant’s neck.

Sebastian had watched stunned and horrified. He was close enough to see Carver squeezing his son’s arse and the roll of Grant’s hips. It was also easy to hear the soft pleasured sounds from Grant. He had turned and walked quickly away when Carver looked over at him, lips red and swollen, pulled up in a smirk.

It was impossible to banish the image especially when Grant proudly displayed the marks Carver had left on his neck. In the last couple of weeks Grant’s wardrobe had changed as well. His trousers were still too tight but now his shirts were often left open halfway down his chest. Grant also seemed to be searching for a unique look, adding various belts, sashes, vests and even some jewelry to his plain pants and shirts.

Grant toyed with the silver hoop in his ear that had appeared a few days after Sebastian’s apology as he sat. Sebastian did his best to smile at Grant and focused on his breakfast. Anne knew of their inappropriate behavior and she liked it as much as he did, not at all. She seemed to be encouraging his search for his own style however. Sebastian didn’t care for it much but was very thankful his son seemed to be avoiding feathers.

He found coping with Grant’s outlandish behavior difficult but his son seemed happier over all. There were more smiles and he wasn’t quite as quiet as he had been previously. Most of his time was spent with Hawke but Grant didn’t seem to resent his siblings anymore and had spent some of his free time with them. The only person in the castle who hadn’t received a happy smile from him so far was Sebastian himself. Sebastian knew it would take longer than a couple of weeks to repair the damage he’d done if their relationship was salvageable at all. He was beginning to despair that he would only ever get suspicious frowns and sharp words.

Sebastian ate slowly keeping track of Grant as he did. He was trying to think of a polite way to tell him to please keep all overt sexual activity confined to his room. The rest Sebastian thought he could deal with eventually. Since there was no need to call more attention to his extremely inappropriate behavior he planned on talking to Grant before he left for Hawke’s clinic.

Even though he was last to the table only Douglas left before him. Grant inhaled his breakfast and pushed away from the table. Anne spoke quietly to him for a moment and his reply was just as soft. He excused himself smiling and pushed in his chair. Sebastian followed after him, Anne frowning slightly at him as he passed her. In the hallway Grant and Carver were already on their way and Sebastian jogged to catch up.

“Grant,” he called out.

“Yes Father?” Grant said flatly as he turned around.

“It…” Sebastian’s words died on his tongue at the resigned expression his son wore and the defeated slump to his shoulders. He expected harsh words and punishment. Sebastian glanced at Carver and wondered if he’d told Grant that he’d seen them. Rather than do as he intended, he grasped frantically for something else to say. “Err… how are your studies coming?”

“Fine,” said Grant after a moment of stunned silence. “Graham says all the time I spend with him now is helping a lot.”

“That’s good,” Sebastian said. “I won’t keep you further.”

“Thank you,” Grant said after a moment.

A confused look passed over his face as he turned away. Carver followed stoically behind and Sebastian watched them.

“Grant,” Sebastian called out again taking a few steps closer. His son stopped and turned again, now looking irritated. “It would be nice to see you at supper every once in a while.”

“I’ll try,” he said indifferently turning back around.

Sebastian held in a sigh and watched them walk down the hall before turning back the way he’d come. The dining room was empty and he went in search of Anne, finding her in the library. He sunk down on the seat next to her and heaved a sigh. She set aside the unopened book and took his hand in hers.

“Did you argue?” she asked.

“No,” Sebastian replied. “I asked about his studies and expressed a desire to see him a little more often at supper.”

“No harsh words or raised voices?”

“None.” Sebastian kissed the back of her hand.

“Be patient Sebastian,” Anne said gently. “I’m sure Grant will see that you are sincere.”

“I hope so,” he sighed. “Anne, will you speak with him about the inappropriate behavior in the castle? I’m afraid if I say anything he will take it badly.”

“He likely would. I do not like that either but we agreed to let him do as he wished.”

“I know love but here in the castle he’s taking it too far. Last night I saw them in a very… compromising… position.” Anne frowned and turned slightly to see him better. “They were nearly hidden against the wall in a dark hallway, Carver’s hands beneath his clothing… very obviously pleasuring him.”

“I will speak with Carver first,” Anne said her frown deepening.

“Carver knows I spied them,” Sebastian said trying to banish the image again. “I can’t imagine why he indulges Grant like that. He never seemed the sort to enjoy being watched in Kirkwall.”

“Perhaps I will speak with both of them then,” said Anne.

“Thank you Anne.” He squeezed her hand and leaned over to give her a chaste kiss.

Sebastian focused on his duties for a while, settling disputes and going through the city’s income with his seneschal. The morning passed slowly and the afternoon was no better. He went through tentative wedding plans with Douglas and spoke with a few carpenters about going through the ball room again. He ended up in the middle of the dance floor remembering watching Grant and Carver dance.

Anne had known about them. While he still didn’t like Grant’s choice in lovers, he thought he understood a little more about what had made Anne smile that day. Despite the thirty years between them, they were happy. All the reports he received from the city indicated that as well. Sebastian thought of Douglas and how he smiled when they spoke of Julia. He thought of Elle and how she stood on the balcony overlooking the soldiers training area, how she’d watch her soldier with a dreamy expression. Lastly he thought of himself, stuck in a small village in the Anderfels due to inclement weather and falling head over heels in love with a farmer’s daughter.

It struck him just how unfair he’d been with Grant in this area of his life. Was it any wonder this was how his son had chosen to rebel? He would never like how much older Carver was but the feelings between them seemed genuine. Determined to find a way to show his support that wouldn’t be taken wrong, he sought out his wife again. After a discussion they headed out into the city.

They came back a couple of hours later with a small box. Anne tied a red ribbon around it while Sebastian penned a note. The box was left on Grant’s nightstand, the note folded beside it with both of their names on the outside. There was nothing left to do now but wait and hope.


	26. Chapter 26

Suppertime was over when Grant finally headed back to the castle. All day he’d been rather distracted by Sebastian’s unexpected inquiry. The longer nothing had been said about his behavior the more he’d strove for a reaction. Getting fresh in the halls and in the garden he’d thought would have been the best way to accomplish it. Grant hadn’t expected his father to continue to ignore the behavior, especially after catching them.

“Are you sure he saw us?” Grant asked.

“Absolutely,” Carver replied. “Ran off like his ass was on fire.”

“Then why didn’t he mention it this morning? I was sure he’d yell or ground me or something.”

“Maybe that’s why he didn’t.”

“You think he’s actually serious? That he’s truly going to give up on hiding me and trying to make me what he wants me to be?”

“I do now. If catching us rutting in the hallway didn’t loosen his tongue then he must be serious.”

Grant was still skeptical. He squeezed Carver’s hand and they continued home in companionable silence. There was little else he could do to shock a reaction out of Sebastian that wouldn’t be dangerous or stupid. Since Carver wouldn’t allow him to try anything truly foolish he could only keep pushing in the ways he had been.

He was lost in thought and only half paying attention to his surroundings when they approached the castle gates. Carver squeezed his hand and pulled him a little closer. “You’re mother’s waiting for us.”

One of the guards was pointing at them when Grant looked around. Anne spoke with him briefly and waited for them just inside.

“Hello Mother,” Grant said cheerfully as they stopped in front of her.

“Good evening Grant,” she replied smiling. Anne turned and inclined her head at Carver. “Serah Hawke.”

“My Lady,” Carver said evenly as he bowed slightly.

“I would like to speak with you both privately,” Anne said still smiling. “It will only take a moment.”

“All right,” said Grant. His stomach clenched nervously and he glanced at Carver. “We didn’t have any specific plans.”

Anne led them down the hallway and into the audience waiting room. Benches were lined along the walls, a round table in the middle of the room and decorative tapestries hung on the walls. She closed the door after them and stood in front of it, her arms crossed under her bosom.

“I should scold you both,” Anne said mildly.

“What for Mother?” Grant asked as innocently as he could. His mother had to be aware of what he and Carver had been doing all around the castle. He hadn’t expected her to confront them about it however.

“That’s not going to work,” Carver muttered.

“No,” she said now sounding amused. “Playing innocent will not get you out of trouble this time. I know what you’ve been up to.”

“Mother…” Grant began.

She held a hand up and he fell silent immediately. “I understand Grant. You doubt Sebastian’s sincerity. I’m grateful you haven’t chosen a more dangerous method to test your father’s patience but you must stop groping each other in the hallways.”

“The gardens?” said Grant somewhat hopefully.

Anne shook her head. “Such activities should remain private. In your room or an unoccupied room with a door if you simply can’t wait.”

“Yes Mother,” Grant said softly.

“Thank you Grant,” said Anne her smile returning. “It’s good to see you smiling.” She pulled him into a brief hug and kissed his forehead then turned to Carver. “Keeping him happy doesn’t mean indulging his _every_ whim.”

“Yes Ma’am,” he said sheepishly, spots of color blooming on his cheeks.

Anne smiled and nodded slightly. “I won’t keep you further.” She turned and opened the door stepping halfway through before turning back to them. “Thank you Carver, for your timely appearance in Starkhaven. Perhaps the Maker’s grand sense of humor is sometimes needed to knock sense into his stubborn children.”

A corner of his mouth quirked up and Carver inclined his head. “You’re welcome my Lady.”

Still smilingly she closed the door behind her. Carver sighed heavily and sat on the nearest bench. Grant sat next to him, echoing his heavy sigh and leaned back against the wall.

“I guess we’ll have to figure something else out,” Grant said disappointedly.

“I guess so,” Carver said sounding just as disappointed as he felt.

“I had to talk you into it,” said Grant smirking. “And now you sound as if you’re going to miss having your hands down my pants where we might be caught.”

Carver shrugged the blush deepening slightly even as he smiled. “I guess you can teach an old dog new tricks. At least we know one of your parents finally approves of us.”

“Come on,” Grant said standing. “Let’s go up to our room and think of something else that will irritate Father.”

“I still think he’s genuine but,” Carver said standing as well. He gestured at the door and smiled. “Lead on.”

Grant walked quickly through the corridors and up the stairs to his room. They came across the usual assortment of soldiers and servants on the way but didn’t come across any of his family. A small box on his nightstand tied up in a red ribbon caught his attention immediately. He heard Carver close the door behind him as he crossed the room.

“What’s this?” Grant asked curiously as he picked the box up.

“Don’t know,” Carver said coming up beside him. He picked up a piece of paper that Grant hadn’t noticed. “Grant and Carver,” he read slowly. “Do you recognize the writing?”

“It’s Father’s handwriting,” said Grant now frowning. “Read it out loud.”

“Please accept this gift. Despite my hypocrisy you have found with each other what I have with Anne. What I have encouraged Douglas and Elle to search for. May you enjoy many years together. Sebastian.”

“Let me see that,” Grant said setting the box back down on his nightstand. “He can’t actually…”

Silently Carver handed him the note and he read through it several times. It was definitely his father’s writing but he was still having difficulty believing his father had written it. Grant set the note down and picked up the box. He pulled at the ribbon and dropped it to the floor, lifting the lid. Inside on a swatch of cotton sat two amulets.

They were made of silver, both oval shaped with a small green gem set into the bottom. One was engraved with a flaming sword, an icon he remembered from his previous life but it brought none of the hatred now that he remembered having then. On the other the stylized sun of the Chantry was etched, another symbol he had previously hated but now held different significance.

“He is serious,” said Grant in a small voice. He lifted the amulets out of the box and set it back down on the nightstand. “All these years… “

“No matter who you _were_ ,” Carver said softly taking the amulets from him. “You _are_ his son. My father spent hardly any time with me. He couldn’t. He had to teach Garrett and Bethany. I resented it, resented him for years. He died when I was fifteen. I wish I could tell him I understand now.”

“That’s why Graham’s been defending him,” Grant said turning towards Carver at his side. “Why you’ve sort of defended him a few times. Why you were so mad with him to start with.”

“It is,” Carver replied evenly. He slipped the chain of one around Grant’s neck. “He’s offering peace.”

Grant lifted the amulet and saw he’d been given the sun. The Chantry had always been a big part of his life. Anders people were very devout and his mother was no different. His father was firm in his beliefs. They were true believers with unshakable faith. Yet neither of them had thrown him out of the city. He was a mage and both had fought to keep him in Starkhaven with them.

“Maybe I can give him a chance,” Grant said looking back up at Carver.

“Let’s not go too easy on him,” Carver said smirking. “He’s got a lot to make up for.”

“Did you have something in mind?” said Grant grinning.

“Rearrange the room a bit, leave the curtains to the balcony open, and have as much sex as we want in our room, behind closed doors.”

“Loopholes!” Grant exclaimed. “I love it!”

“Let’s get to work,” Carver said tucking his amulet underneath his shirt.

*

Sebastian could hardly hide his disappointment. He didn’t expect Grant to show up for supper but had hoped to see him at some point last night. Anne had spoken with them as soon as they’d returned to the castle and then they had stayed in their room all night. He hoped Grant hadn’t avoided him out of anger. He filled his plate with eggs and bacon, keeping a close watch on the door. Sebastian was half finished before Grant joined them.

“Good morning,” he said cheerfully as he sat. Sebastian was surprised when he looked directly at him and smiled. “Father,” he added politely.

“Good morning Grant,” Sebastian said evenly.

“Thank you,” said Grant touching the amulet he hadn’t noticed.

“You’re welcome,” said Sebastian warmly, smiling happily.


End file.
